Walk With Me
by AmericanAndroid
Summary: After being healed of a dark curse, Death himself embarks on a journey to regain everything he had lost and more, but Godric will soon discover what he desires most will cost him an unimaginable price.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own true blood.

 **BETA:** The amazing suzymeinen

The wind, and blades of grass, and creatures of the night danced and swayed in a musical chorus that only one such as she could truly appreciate. The tendrils of the weeping willow that hid her rustled with laughter as she lay on her back and closed her eyes, enjoying the sounds that the circle of life evoked. The scent of the freshly cut grass wafted through the air and reminded her of the prairies of her long lost home; a home that she would never see again.

She pushed the thought away and sighed a happy sigh as she again became lost in the never-ending connection that all life enjoyed. It was all intertwined, and the roots of life went so deep in the Earth that even she could barely fathom it.

The tree branches groaned in protest and everything became eerily silent as the night froze with uneasiness. Even the autumn breeze momentarily stilled as a harrowed awareness blanketed the area. So tangible was it, nothing was immune to the influence of power and dominance that crackled in the air. She sat up and brushed the leaves out of her golden hair. He was here.

He had come.

Sierra moved to the trunk of the willow and peered through the umbrella of branches that brushed the soft ground. The spindly boughs attempted to hide her from a danger they were sure she did not fully understand. She was frozen, like a statue in the shadows as she waited with anticipation and wonder. Reaching down she retrieved her sunglasses and put them on so her eyes would not glint in the darkness, a trait unique to the Fae. Her shining eyes were sure to alert the approaching creature of her presence as she hid obscured behind a waterfall of leafy tendrils.

The vampire came to this park on the same day, at the same time, every week, unaware of how much she treasured his visits. She had first noticed him six months ago as she lay in the grass, gazing up at the starlit sky. This particular park was always quiet at night which was the reason she had chosen it as her home in the first place. It seemed she was not the only one drawn to its serene beauty. The large lake sparkled in the moonlight and the vampire always sat on the bench staring out blankly, as if he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

She pitied him. His aura told a century old story that only one such as she could recognize. He had been cursed long ago, at least a century she estimated, by some sort of dark magic. The caster was most likely a witch and had long since died of old age. In all honesty, she was surprised the curse had not compelled him to suicide decades ago. This vampire must be strong with an iron will to have endured such a miserable curse for so long.

He was so drowned in sorrow and self-loathing, and his need for peace was so great that it cut through the atmosphere like a razor-sharp dagger. He seemed to seek refuge as he stared out over the lake, yearning for a contentment that it failed to provide him. His grievous affliction was so vast that it shrouded his otherwise innate senses with a blanket of gloom.

She could mask her scent at will, and out of the drive for survival she had trained herself in stealth since she was a child, making it even harder for him to sense her in his melancholy state. The fact that she was half Fae did not temper her essential spark, and she carried unique gifts like every full-blooded Fairy, but it did diminish her life-span, giving her the life expectancy of a regular human, which was the reason she was cast out of her village and eventually the Fae realm in the first place and brandished an abomination.

Tonight was a special night, because it was the night that Sierra decided she would approach the vampire and strip him of his curse. The danger sent a thrill through her as she slowly mustered her nerve while she waited. She was certain that he would not be able to harm her. She would simply teleport away after her good deed was done and he would not be able to give chase. The hard part was somehow tricking him into letting her touch him, so she could draw the curse out of him and free him of his life of anguish. She was sure if she did not accomplish this task tonight he would end his life very soon. The pain was so evident in his eyes that it made her heart heavy with sadness.

She had been taught from an early age that vampires were nothing more than sadistic monsters with teeth, which would drain her of every drop of blood if she came across one. But she sensed his gentle soul from her first glimpse of him, and it had intrigued her and brought all of her teachings and knowledge into question. It was true, she was young and inexperienced, only being seventeen years old, but she couldn't help but wonder if what she was told of vampires was simply an ancient myth that her people had passed down from generation to generation.

The vampire's life hinged on the very hope that it was indeed a misguided superstition spread by over-zealous Fairies, because if it was anything but a myth, she would swiftly retreat and abandon her task, condemning him to the shell he had been reduced to.

She suppressed a shiver as his form came into view. He was strolling down the sidewalk that led to the bench beside the lake as he always did, his hands in his pockets and his face blank of emotion.

Her nocturnal eyesight was poor since the Fae realm basked in never-ending sunlight, but he was not twenty feet away as he passed her, completely unaware of her presence as she crouched behind the woody boughs.

She held her breath. She did not even dare breathe when he was so close. She was sure one as ancient as he would sense even the modest of noises. She peered up at him as he approached, her face hidden in the shadows. She strained her eyes so she could see his features. His head was turned and he was looking towards the sparkling lake. His soulful blue eyes held a light, even in the darkness that bespoke of his otherworldly nature, as did the golden aura that bathed him like the purest sun. The blades of grass and branches from low hanging trees subtly pulled in his direction as he passed by, indicating the power that wafted off him like invisible waves. The very air seemed to part and the wind died in foreboding as he approached. Every insect and creature of the night became silent as they slunk away from him, sensing a deadly predator on the prowl.

She could not see the features of his face clearly due to her poor night vision but she was sure that he must be as beautiful as the soft aura that danced around him, only broken by the pulsing darkness that hovered over his heart, breaking the otherwise perfect golden light. The darkness was the curse, which she was sure was invisible to him and others of his kind. If he did sense or see it he would have sought to heal it long ago, though she was not sure that any would be able to rid him of it except one of the Earth Fae such as she. She was in tune with the life and souls of every living thing as they hummed in a connected beat that only the Earth Fae could sense, and if need be, heal when tampered with.

Finally, he passed her and strolled along the cement sidewalk that curved towards the lake. She stared after him and noticed the ink marking peeking out of the top of his shirt at the back of his neck. She had noticed it before, but she was not any less curious. Tonight he was wearing a long sleeved grey shirt that softly clung to his body and a pair of brown cargo pants. The clothes made him look youthful but his demeanor and the way he moved told her how weary he truly was. She could even sense that his life force seemed bland and faded as if he was suffering from malnutrition. The curse had weighed heavy on him as it was undoubtedly intended to do.

Once he reached the bench in front of the lake, he sat down with a long sigh. He sat motionless as he looked over the lake, seemingly lost in the ripples of water that gently fluttered in the breeze and glittered with starlight. His head casually turned when a frog on the opposite bank jumped into the water, causing a small splash.

She slowly rose to her full height as she leaned against the willow she had been hiding under. Now she was far away from him and would have to cross the neatly mowed field to reach him. She looked down at her outfit and suddenly realized that she must look ridiculous and might even raise questions. She wore a simple white sleeveless dress that hemmed in a tattered mess at her upper thighs. She was barefoot since she preferred to feel the cool soil beneath her feet as she walked. Her golden hair was stringy over her shoulders and she reached up and ran her fingers through it. It was still slightly damp since she had bathed in the lake before he came, but she still felt self conscious about her appearance. She raised more than a few eyebrows on the rare occasions that she interacted with humans.

Taking her sunglasses off and sitting them on the ground, she closed her eyes and told herself that no one deserved to be tormented with such an unhappy curse, even if they were a vampire.

She stealthily began to tiptoe down the sidewalk towards the vampire, making no noise as she went. She smiled to herself as she moved beside him. She was about ten feet away when she felt his eyes suddenly on her, but she did not look at him, instead she stared across the lake.

"What a beautiful place," she said with a mischievous smile.

* * *

Godric looked across the lake. He didn't know why he came here every week. Perhaps, it was to escape the disturbing things he saw on a nightly basis as Sheriff of Dallas. At least here he could get some semblance of peace as he relaxed into the silence and became mesmerized watching the rippling water. He had been coming here for years, but only for the last six months had he sensed a change. Something was in the air and he could not pinpoint exactly what it was. The air seemed to vibrate with magic. Even more recently he felt a pull in his chest that he had not felt since he gave his Viking the gift of immortal life while he lay dying on his funeral pyre.

He remembered that pull in his chest when he first laid eyes on Eric. It was one of the most momentous occasions of Godric's life. He will never forget it. It was the call of the maker. So beautiful and rare was it that most vampires never felt it, despite the fact they gave out the gift of immortal life like drops of O positive in this new age. An ancient vampire such as himself knew just how dangerous it could be to turn a progeny without the maker call. Such a progeny lacked loyalty and it was not uncommon for them to go insane after the transition. Not every human could handle immortal life and not every human was destine to live forever.

He scoffed. He was one to judge. He himself had turned such a progeny had he not? He turned Nora without the maker call, giving into Eric's pleas. Eric had good intentions. He had hopes of strengthening their blood line and found Nora worthy, but soon the young vampire had parted ways with them and left to seek out her own adventures. It had hurt him and Eric immensely when he was forced to release her, but it was for the best. Now they only sensed her life force thrumming across the bond like a faint whisper on a cheerless wind. The ordeal had taught him and Eric both a lesson that would stay with them until their true death.

An inherent chill crawled up his spine in cautionary warning and he knew well the call of the maker could only be evoked in a vampire if the human was on their death bed or was destine to die soon.

Over the last few weeks this place had an odd way of making him reflect about the nuances of the call as the pull danced in his blood. Though he doubted he could turn another progeny in his hapless state, the sensation still worried him and he could not help but wonder if he had aged so much that his intuitive instincts had forsaken him. There was no one around. Was he meant to turn that frog that jumped in the water just now?

He chuckled a bit under his breath imagining a frog with fangs and his heart immediately hurt, reminding him that he was a monstrous beast no better than a fiend and comparable to the most villainous hellion. He deserved no joy, let alone the pleasure and fulfillment that a new child would bring him.

He had finally come to a decision. He would present himself to the Fellowship of the Sun and end his intolerable existence at last. He would come face to face with the sun. He imagined it would be a glorious sight and there was no better way for a vampire to meet the true death. In the process, he would leave the world making a positive impact. He would answer for the crimes against humans by offering death himself on their alter as a willing sacrifice. He was after all death incarnate. Over the centuries two dispositions of his nature had emerged: the fearless and dark dealer of death that so many feared and the gentle and wise soul that so many respected. He was once proud of both aspects of his character, but over the last century the darker side had festered inside him and caused such self-loathing that he nearly crumbled under its weight. It was true, he had made many mistakes in his past, but he had always learned and grown from them as every vampire should. Only now did he feel as if every error of his past was a silver nail bitterly driving through his mind with its icy touch, exposing him for the monster he had apparently always been.

He frowned in disgust and was about to stand to make his leave when he felt the air shift beside him. Alarm and a chilly horror raced through him as he realized that someone had ambushed him, evading his exceptional senses, which had never once happened in his 2764 long years.

His mind worked so quickly that his head was not fully turned to look upon his adversary as a million thoughts ran through him. One such thought was a foe had come to slay him and he should acquiesce to the hand that was surely about to strike him down. Another thought was that he should stand up and slaughter the aggressor who dared to violate him. All thoughts came to a stand still as his chest nearly burst with the call of the maker when his eyes fell upon her delicate form. This was no nemesis come to end his baneful existence, it was an angel. His mind went completely blank and he froze in raw shock. He took in the sight of her golden locks as they bounced on the breeze, her white dress as it fluttered behind her, her charming beauty that put the heavens to shame.

"What a beautiful place," she said without even turning to look at him, her lips curving upward.

His mouth parted as he tried to process what was happening through a cloud of confusion. His blood churned and raced through him with the unmistakable maker call. He put his hand on the back of the bench and faced her slightly. Drawing in a sharp breath, he surveyed her profile while she gazed across the water.

His fangs slid out uncontrollably as every cell in his body vibrated with pleasure. He was sure that if he died the true death that very moment than he would die the happiest vampire that ever walked the Earth. Then a sharp pain so intense shot through his heart telling him he was a fool, telling him he was not right, that vampires were not right, and that he was a sadistic animal for even considering contaminating such a beautiful creature as she.

His lips started to tremble as he fought the noxious feelings that rumbled within him like rolling thunder across a thick sky.

She looked over her shoulder at him and their eyes locked. The internal conflict within him raged to new heights as they stared at each other. He inhaled deeply through his nostrils only to realize she carried no scent, which must have contributed to her ability to catch him off guard.

"Are you okay?" she asked, her smile fading slightly as she faced him fully with cautious yet graceful movements.

His eyes studied her face as he tried to ignore the pain in his heart. She was truly beautiful in every sense of the word, a radiant natural beauty that seemed to blend with the Earth itself. Her hair was long and a few shades darker than Eric's, which made him wonder if she was of Scandinavian descent. But her shorter stature made him think twice. Eric's people tended to be on the taller side and she could be no more than five-two at the most. Her silver-blue eyes gave her an almost other worldly appearance but her pupils were heavily dilated which diminished the effect.

"I was surprised," he finally admitted in a hushed whisper. He could not seem to bring his full voice out as he took in the sight of her.

Her pink lips curved upward in another smile, showing rows of white teeth. She reached down and twirled a tattered piece of her skirt. Her antics made her seem more youthful than she was which was already extremely young. He figured she could be no more than a score old.

Nervously she reached up and scratched her nose, which was adorned with a splattering of light freckles only a few shades darker than her tanned skin. Her entire body shined in the moonlight in the most inviting and alluring ways. He realized she was staring at his fangs and he made a great effort to retract them but found he could not.

"I will not harm you," he said softly in a voice he hoped sounded reassuring. "Do not fear me."

She shrugged unconcerned as another splashing frog caught her attention. Her naïve nature vexed him, and he thought surely she must know that he was vampire. She had already caught sight of his looming fangs and yet they did not illicit anxiety as they usually did, even from the most acclimated humans in the supernatural community.

"I wonder if I can catch one," she said squinting towards the opposite bank at the croaking frogs. "I can't see them but I can hear them singing."

Without even thinking Godric shot to the opposite side of the bank and gathered up four frogs in his hands before shooting back towards her.

"A gift," he said, holding them out to her, yet far enough away that he hoped he didn't scare her.

She laughed in a cute voice that delighted him. That delight was soon followed by another pang of self-loathing and he grimaced.

"Thanks!" she giggled as she reached out towards him.

When their hands brushed he felt his pain shed away from him like a thousand tiny caresses. She took a step closer to him and looked deeply into his eyes as her hand rested on his. He furrowed his brow as his worldly burdens seemed to wither away in the wind.

Soon he found himself smiling widely at her and he had no clue why. He was sure he had not felt so full of freedom and vitality in at least a hundred years. Finally she withdrew her hand and stepped away from him. Out of sheer excitement and his need for answers he tried to close the distance between them by treading closer but she stepped back again.

"What did you just do to me, child?" he asked in wonderment, the maker pull drawing him to her like a moth to a flame. His hands were still ridiculously held out in front of him as three tiny frogs shook in fright in his palms. One had already managed to escape when she took his pain away.

There was a loud laugh on the other side of the park which caused him to snap his head to the side, his possessive and protective nature for his future child already coming to life. It would seem two humans had decided to take a night stroll and interrupt their captivating encounter.

He looked back to her, about to apologize. For what? He knew not, but he would say anything to engage her further. To his dismay, she had vanished. He quickly spun around in bewilderment and searched the surroundings, flaring his nostrils wildly to no avail. She had no scent.

His blood still churned relentlessly with the maker pull and he almost panicked, fearing for her safety. He knew just how dire the situation was. The call of the maker was only possible if she was near death. Though he knew she looked perfectly healthy an uncomfortable feeling coiled in his chest as the call became even stronger, an ominous warning to him of her impending fate.

He spun around and saw two men come into sight down the sidewalk; the source of the howling laughter he had heard seconds ago.

They noticed him too and stopped laughing as they came to a halt. He finally dropped the frogs and hissed at them, causing them to scream and make a hasty retreat. He was angry that they had caused him to lose sight of his future child. No feeling was more precious or rare or strong than the call of the maker and it was nearly enough to send him into a frightful frenzy in search of her.

"Where are you?" He called. "I will not harm you, child. You have my word."

He closed his eyes and listened but heard nothing, not even the creatures of the night that went silent when he called into the air. Shooting up into the sky he searched the park from an aerial view for his child but she was nowhere in sight.

Several more times that night he landed in the park and called out to her but she never answered. He was a skilled tracker, able to use his heightened senses to hunt, even more so than the typical vampire, so he went into predator mode as the beast in him erupted to the surface. Despite this, he only managed to find her footsteps leading from the trees to the bench and mysteriously vanishing where he last saw her standing. He found a pair of sunglasses in the trees where her footsteps had begun and it only made him more curious. There were no other clues about who she was or where she had gone. He was at a loss as dawn approached. Finally, he reluctantly took to the sky to head back to his compound.

As he flew through the night a plethora of emotions crashed down on him, and he realized what exactly he had lost. Receiving the maker call was a blessing within itself but receiving it twice in one's lifetime was a true gift that very few enjoyed. It is true, many vampires had several progenies turned without the pull, but it was extremely hard to garner the loyalty, love, faith, and companionship a progeny born of the maker call would provide.

This young woman was extraordinary beyond all measure. Her very touch seemed to melt away his thirst for death, and he found for the first time in a century that he felt like himself again. He soon found himself opening the bond back up to his child Eric and he was immediately bombarded with curiosity and shock as their connection flared back to life. Eric prodded the bond cautiously at first before diving into Godric's emotions in search for answers. It was only a skill that came with a millennium of practice that allowed Eric to so expertly search his maker for answers.

Godric smiled as he landed at the compound and made his way to the door and Eric's interest peaked even higher at his mirth, unaccustomed to such feelings from Godric. But the mirth from Godric was soon replaced by worry and fear as he thought about the young woman he was pulled to. She was alone somewhere out there, unprotected and vulnerable and the pull told him she was not long for this world. A sudden thought came to him that she was probably homeless, as evidence by the state of her dress. He wondered if she was even human and he ran through everything that happened. She had seemingly disappeared in thin air, she held no scent, and she lifted a darkness from him that had shrouded him for so very long. Eric bounced around his feelings trying to make sense of them as Godric analyzed everything that had happened.

Finally the cell phone in his pocket began to vibrate and he didn't need a maker's bond to know who it was.

"Eric," he answered in a cheery voice that sounded strange to even him. "Why do I have the pleasure of this call?"

"You know why," the Viking quipped, but Godric could tell his child was smiling. "What has happened?"

"I gifted some frogs to a beautiful woman but she disappeared."

"So it's true then. Vampires do go senile with age," Eric sassed.

"That is due to a nosy and stubborn child. Not age," Godric retorted with a smile as he made his way down the stairs that led to the subterranean level of his compound.

"Truly though, Master. What has caused you to re-open the bond and be full of so much hope? Not that I am complaining, but I have not sensed such things from you in at least a century."

"Tonight I felt the makers call."

There was a potent silence between them. "Seriously?" Eric's finally said, his voice laced with disbelief and amazement. "You are going to ground tonight with a new child?"

"No," Godric chewed on the inside of his cheek. "You know that I will not turn an unwilling progeny, even with the pull."

"So this beautiful woman denied you?" He was in shock and his voice showed a hint of disgust. "Even when you gave her the frogs?" He added in sarcasm when Godric didn't immediately answer.

Godric paused in thought as he punched in the code to the door of his sleeping chamber. "In truth, I do not know."

"She would rather be left to her fate? Did she not feel the pull in return? Is she with you now?" Eric's questions came quickly as he felt Godric's worry.

"Do you know of any supernatural creature that possesses the ability to disappear into thin air, has no scent, and…"

"And what?"

"Can heal despair." Godric knew of no other way to phrase what she had done to him. "And possibly has poor nocturnal eyesight." He remembered that she said she could not see the frogs but could hear them and her eyes were fully dilated as if they were trying to soak up as much light from the moon and stars as possible.

"Niall Brigant is able to mask his scent and he can disappear via teleportation." Eric paused. "Are you saying this woman is a fairy?"

Godric's fangs immediately slid out and he heard the distinct click of fangs on the other end of the phone that mirrored his own. He reached up and wiped his palm over his mouth slowly in a downward motion before speaking. "The Fae are creatures born of the light so it would make sense that they would have poor nocturnal vision," Godric thought aloud and his heart fell heavy. No vampire would ever have the self control to turn a fairy. They would immediately drain them.

"A fairy would never go near a vampire. Even Niall keeps his distance. Did she have pointy ears?"

Godric thought back to his encounter with her and remembered staring at the profile of her face as she gazed over the lake. "No, her ears were visibly human."

"So are Sookie's."

"Who?"

"I have recently made the acquaintance of a delectable woman in my area and I believe her to be part fairy. She has the ability of telepathy and is immune to a vampire's glamour. She also has the most intoxicating scent. Perhaps this woman of yours is only partly fairy like Sookie."

"And you do not fear you will drain this Sookie when you come in contact with her?"

"No," Eric said seductively. Godric could hear the slight movement of a mattress as Eric lay down and sank in comfortably. "I believe that since she is only part fairy, if I'm correct in my assumptions, that I am able to control myself around her. In fact, she is claimed by another vampire…" He growled and his voice turned sullen. "And he has fed from her. An annoying inconvenience that I will soon remedy."

"It would be accurate to surmise then, that perhaps fairies possess gifts that are unique to each individual, similar to how vampires possess unique gifts," Godric mused as he thought how his future child can teleport and this other presumed fairy named Sookie has the ability of telepathy.

"Do you want me to fly to Dallas when I rise and help you search for her?"

"No. For now I do not wish to frighten her away with the presence of more vampires. It is my intention to convince her that I will not harm her or force myself upon her." Perhaps at the very least she would allow him to befriend her. The thought that he may never see her again stung Godric at his very core.

"If you change your mind than you know that I am at your disposal."

"Of course, my child."

"And I'm glad to have you back," Eric said fondly, his voice ever so slightly faltering. "You have been sorely missed."

Godric sighed, unsure what to say since he himself did not fully understand the implications behind the disparaging and dark thoughts that had plagued him for so long. A shudder ran through him as he realized just how close he was to ending his own life and the trauma that would have caused Eric. He had many questions that he intended to find the answers for. The self-loathing and despair he had felt seemed to be completely gone. He knew that he had most likely wounded his child deeply when he closed the bond and parted ways with him shortly after World War II. Their relationship would require delicate repair.

"Know that I do not have the answers to my past actions, my child. But that you have always been in my heart and not far from my thoughts."

Eric sighed and a long silence hung between them before he spoke. "I wish to see you."

"Soon, my child. For now we must go to rest for the day."

"Yes, Master," Eric said in a broken voice then he ended the call. Godric was sure it was to prevent him from hearing any further emotion in his voice and he couldn't help but smile since he knew everything Eric felt from the bond. His Viking had always believed that any display of emotion made him look weak, unless it was anger or pleasure.

Godric went to rest that day with his last thought being that of hope as he reveled in the feeling of his blood dancing with the thrill of the maker call. Tomorrow he would rise and return to the park where he had met the enchanting youngling that provoked his soul as only one other had ever done. He would return night after night until he found her and had the opportunity to speak to her again.

* * *

I would love to hear from you and get your opinion even if it's only a few words. Your encouragement and comments means a lot to me and reminds me that I can do this and create a story arc people enjoy. So if you like this story please let me know.


	2. Chapter 2

Godric rose two hours before sunset as he consistently did every evening. He had first noticed this ability presenting itself around the age of seven hundred, and over the centuries he had steadily rose earlier and earlier as he aged. This development definitely had its advantages, though it could almost be intolerable on those nights he was forced to bury himself in soil and wait under the dirt for the sun to set.

Eric had also started rising early, around the same age. He shook his head as he thought about just how old Eric was. "I have a 1200 year old child," he chuckled fondly. He mentally checked on the open bond with his Viking and smiled to himself when he sensed he was still in his day rest. He would not be rising for another hour. It was a comfort to sense Eric's vivacious energy pulsing across the bond again, even if it was only a faint undertone while he slumbered and the feel of his ancient child gave him solace.

Still lying on his back, he couldn't help but take a few moments to revel in the feel of the silk sheets that caressed his skin. They were so soft they felt like cool water against his body. He rubbed his bare chest as the maker call buzzed in his heart and through his blood, reminding him of the captivating events that unfolded the night before. Closing his eyes and sitting up on the bed, he dangled his legs off the side. He tried to calm himself and focus on the cool hardwood floor below his naked feet. He took a long unnecessary breath which always seemed to calm him in the past. If he could not settle his instincts quickly he was liable to rush out in the sunlight towards the park in search for her. The pull was a ravenous desire and he longed to run to her, seize her, and fly away into the night with her.

A vision of her face appeared in his mind as he pictured her slowly facing him when she stood in front of the lake. Her eyes glinted in the darkness almost like a cat as her pupils tried to soak in the starlight. He reached for the sunglasses he had found the night before, which were sitting on his night stand. Carefully inspecting them he realized she must have been watching him from the shadows, wearing those very glasses to hide her eyes. Despite her lack of scent and the measures she had taken to hide herself, he should have sensed her presence. Such a neglectful oversight on his part could result in tragedy. He was grateful that he had survived the last century, regardless of the morose disposition he had experienced during that time.

He smiled. His future child was already a stealthy predator if she could fool him, even in his formerly crestfallen state. She would make a spectacular vampire and he knew from rumors that other supernaturals that were given the gift of immortality did not lose their magical gifts. He recalled a vampire he knew of that managed to weave his way into human lore with his ability to shape shift to a bat, despite being an insufferable buffoon who was barely a century old when he met his true death. The long dead vampire was a known shifter to his kind, retaining his abilities after his turning.

He cared not what abilities his future child had. She could be an ordinary human, it mattered not. His devotion to her had already weaseled its way into his hungry heart and he had passionate ambitions to deliver her to her destiny by his side.

Twirling the sunglasses in his hand, he brought them to his nose to try and catch a hint of the elusive scent that he yearned to know. He sighed in frustration. There was nothing.

He knew that she must feel the pull as he felt it. It was two-sided in every aspect and he imagined her sitting on the bench in front of the lake, staring out over it that very moment thinking of him, wondering about him, and probably confused at what it all meant. He wanted to be the one to ease her fears as he drew her in his arms and caressed her hair, whispering to her that he would take care of her, protect her, and guide her.

Godric knew that when he did find her he must tread lightly. If indeed she was of the Fae then she would be wary and suspicious of him. He tilted his head and looked to the wall in thought. It puzzled him why she was not with her kin in the Fae realm. The Fairies had retreated when he was still a young vampire and very little had been heard of them since. Only Niall, the old Sky Fairy who ruled, had been sighted on rare occasions to conduct business in the supernatural community, though it had also been rumored that he sometimes sent others in his stead.

What ever the reason for her solitary nature, he was sure that fate had brought them together and he was desperate to locate her soon, because the call of the maker not only meant that she was destine to be his progeny, but also that her death was impending.

Stretching towards the nightstand, he sat the sunglasses back down and stood up. For his own sanity, he needed to pass the time while he waited for the sun to set. He wanted to be ready to take his leave at first dark. He had a few tasks that would keep his mind occupied.

After showering, he padded across the tile floor of the bathroom over to the sink. He readjusted the white towel around his waist and retrieved his tooth brush. The invention of the tooth brush and tooth paste had definitely been one of mankind's greatest achievements. Though he could never get cavities, it freshened his breath and there was a chance he may be talking to a certain young beauty tonight. He scrubbed for a few moments before dropping fang and polishing his razor-sharp ivories. Curling his lip up and growling experimentally in the mirror, he smiled coyly and subtly waggled his head with cocky swagger. "Hmm," he mused in satisfaction, raising one eyebrow suavely. "I still got it."

He headed out of the bathroom to the sleeping chamber door that led to the rest of the subterranean level of his compound. Running one hand through his messy damp hair to expel the water drops, he reached up with the other and entered in the forty-seven digit alpha-numeric code at vampiric speed into the security pad by the door. It was the last layer of defense that protected him while he slumbered for the day.

Stepping into the hallway, he immediately perked up at the sound of growling, panting, and scratchy racket sprinting across the compound in his direction. Turning his head to look over, he raised his brow as a small two-legged creature turned the corner at a speed it couldn't control and slid across the hardwood floors, crashing against the wall. It scrambled excitedly to its feet, this time on all fours, and ran in place for a second before managing to take off towards him.

"Twitch," he greeted. "I take it all is quiet in the compound."

Twitch skidded to a stop and lifted his banded tail proudly to show Godric he had not needed to hurl it at any invaders today. The poison dart that grew on the tip of his tail had enough venom in it to drop a 500 year old vampire for two days. Twitch was yet another layer of his security system, but over the last two centuries he had become a cherished pet. Similar to a raccoon in build, size, and fur markings, the animal was anything but ordinary. He had received it as a gift from a family of demons during an assignment in his previous job. A job he held before he became Sheriff of Dallas. Like supernatural sentient beings, there were also supernatural animals that remained hidden from the human eye, though many had gone extinct due to the spread and encroachment of human civilization into wild territories. Twitch's species was commonly mistaken for a raccoon; the most noticeable physical difference was the dart on his tail and his purple eyes.

He noticed Twitch had his tiny fist clenched tightly around something and he bent down. "What do you have?"

Twitch's eyes became wide and he looked up with guilt. He slowly tried to stroll away casually and chittered with feigned ignorance.

"Twitch?" Godric growled walking after him, following him as he headed to the living room.

The animal quickly threw down a popcorn kernel and took off to dash under the couch.

He sighed and shook his head as he walked into the living room to see popcorn all over the place and a spilled juice box on the coffee table, the remote control to the TV sticky in the spillage. "I see you have been very busy guarding the compound today," he grumbled bending down and picking up a few stray pieces of popcorn.

He walked over to the coffee table and pulled the towel from his waist. Bending down and wiping up the juice, he growled slightly. Twitch was always getting into trouble. Though he usually cleaned up his romping messes before Godric rose, sometimes he still slipped.

Godric felt a piece of popcorn bounce off his bottom. He looked over his shoulder at the dark crevice under the couch and could hear the animal sniggering in the shadows.

"I hear Chihuahuas make excellent guards."

He heard a gasp followed by a furry arm darting out from under the couch and picking up several nearby pieces of popcorn. As he walked towards the kitchen, he heard a crunching noise.

After preparing a Tru-Blood and taking a drink, he grimaced and held the bottle up to look at it, an expression of disgust on his face. He wondered how he had managed to persist off the vile liquid since the Great Revelation. One of his first orders of business would be to acquire some bagged blood to await him when he rises, for those nights he was too busy to go hunting. Despite it being the weaker synthetic stuff, he still felt slightly energized. It had been at least a week since he fed. He had practically been starving himself for years. Confused about his past behavior, he took another sip and opened one of the junk drawers in the counter.

He rummaged around for a moment before retrieving what he was looking for. It was a picture of him and his child Eric. The photograph was old, black and white with brown tones, taken shortly after cameras were first invented. He chuckled at the curly white wigs that he and Eric were wearing and the layers and layers of clothing that the Europeans tended to adorn themselves with during that era. The photograph was encased in a glass sheath but time had already taken its toll on the treasure, cracking the edges. He ran his thumb over the image and could not imagine why he had felt such a strong need to meet the true death and leave his child.

He took another sip of the Tru-Blood while he stared at the photo in his hand.

The anguish he had felt seemed almost alien, as if it was not his emotion. The picture had been taken before those feelings presented themselves, and he was smiling in the image, laughing at Eric's complaint about his itchy wig. Life had been so fulfilling back then, before everything went dark. Last night the darkness had been lifted from him as if he had just tossed a blanket aside. He was not sure if the call of the maker had extinguished those feelings or if his future child had done something to him. He suspected she had indeed somehow lifted the darkness with her mere touch, a touch he was sure danced with a secret magic. He had been so close to the true death and she had given him a magnificent gift. She had made him whole once again. He did not yet understand it, but he owed her a debt he could never repay.

After rinsing out the empty Tru-Blood bottle in the sink, he tossed it in the recycle bin. Immortality had a way of causing one to care about the future of the Earth. He strode back in the living room, still holding the photograph of him and Eric and saw Twitch dragging the dirty towel in the opposite direction as he waddled towards the laundry room. His mess would keep him busy for awhile then he would probably go up to the top level and bristle his fur and rattle his dart at squirrels and birds as he watched through the window. Turning back down the hall, Godric headed to his office. He had some important matters that he needed to attend to as soon as possible.

He checked the security monitor in his office as he walked in. The upper level of the compound was silent, no one was allowed inside during the daytime hours. Outside he caught a glimpse of a guard patrolling the parameter and another reading a magazine inside the station at the gate. His compound was small, but well fortified and he lived there alone. He rarely slept at the Sheriff nest where he conducted area business, instead preferring to seek out a solitary existence on the outskirts of Dallas at the secret location that only a few of his most trusted friends and blood kin knew about.

Godric had been taking on less and less responsibility as the Dallas Sheriff, training Isabel to take his place since he had planned to meet the sun. If truth be told, the position as Sheriff was a dreary and unfulfilling job that he found little joy in. Unlike his child Eric, who was born a Viking prince, he had little desire to rule over a Sheriffdom.

It would seem that there would soon be many changes in his life. There was his hope of a new progeny, but he also yearned to reconnect with his child Eric. He would not however deny Eric his position, but instead found himself desiring to move to Shreveport and live in a nest with Eric again. He did not know his grand progeny Pamela as well as he would like since Eric turned her shortly after Godric had descended into darkness. A move would allow him the opportunity to finally connect with her on a deeper level. Something he should have done long ago.

After sitting the photograph of him and Eric on his desk, he sat down and picked up the phone to leave Isabel a message that he would not be at the Sheriff nest tonight and to not disturb him unless it was an emergency. He had complete faith that she was competent enough to handle area business on her own.

He reached in the file drawer of his desk and retrieved a manila folder. Inside it was the resignation papers that he had asked the King's clerk to fax over last week. He had planned to put his affairs in order before presenting himself to the Fellowship of the Sun, but now he had completely different reasons for wanting to leave his position. It wasn't just the maker call, or his eventual move to Shreveport, but also he yearned to return to his old position. The one he held before he became Sheriff.

He had quit the job nearly a hundred years ago, when he found that he could no longer fulfill his duties. He had been the Chief Enforcer for Section Black, a highly feared and secretive group answerable to no one, not even High Chancellors within the Global Authority. He had held the position for centuries, and he had quickly rose to one of the highest level positions attainable where he oversaw the entire European dynasty. His reputation and power was both feared and revered throughout the supernatural world, earning him the nickname "Death" and even the most vicious creatures whispered his name in morbid awe.

His job was simply to protect the sanctity of the species, to ensure that the sacred and ancient institutions of honor, tradition, and obligation were upheld by vampires as a whole. If the race went off course, it was his job to correct any untraditional infractions. When he retired at the dawn of the Industrial Revolution, the American vampires had soon descended into utter chaos as Section Black consolidated in the Old World and abandoned hope of stretching their influence across the oceans. Now humans are given immortality without thought, makers abandon their progenies, drainers are allowed to run ramped, Kings and Queens act like dogs fighting for scraps, and to top everything off the North American Authority flip-flop their bureaucratic agendas and decrees from one extreme to the other.

There was a code that had been followed, even when mankind still huddled in caves around fire pits. That ancient code had once been revered. As Chief Enforcer for Section Black Godric was judge, jury, and executioner for any blatant violators of the code. Any whisper of Section Black struck fear to the very cord in every vampire. It was Godric's design to retake his role as Chief Enforcer and straighten out the mess that the American vampire society now wallowed in.

* * *

Sierra splashed her feet in the cool water of the lake as she watched the ducks glide across the water. Today she was not feeling herself. She was exhausted and had grown more tired as the day pressed on. Her stomach was cramping occasionally as well and she wondered if something had gone wrong when she healed the vampire of his affliction.

It was true; her magical power had increased extensively since she had been cast out of the Fae realm. The Earth Fae were meant to live on Earth after all, not a never-ending sun realm that the ruling Sky Fae had chosen for her race long before her birth. Despite her ever increasing power, it wasn't limitless and she feared she had overestimated her strength when she decided to rid the vampire of his curse.

Her exhaustion wasn't too bad, but it was a nuisance and she had spent most of the day lounging about in the shade. She thought about him, the vampire she had healed. Ever since she had touched him she had felt a delightful feeling in her chest that she could not quite explain. She found herself yearning more than ever to see him again, but knew she would have to wait another six nights before he came back to the park, which he never failed to do. It was the reason she hadn't used up her depleted energy to mask her scent today. She usually only bothered for the two days every week preceding his visits anyway. The only reason it had been masked the first time she spotted him was because she was new to the park and being cautious, hiding her scent everyday until she knew it was safe. His weekly visits were like clockwork and she was never disappointed when he came into sight.

She was surprised he had not tried to immediately bite her last night; instead he seemed eager to enjoy her company. This development surprised her and she had watched him in confusion from a distance as he searched for her, unsure if he wanted to feed upon her or simply talk to her as he repeatedly claimed with his calls. It took every ounce of her will power to remain hidden. Some invisible force seemed to scream to her to go to him, and her heart tried to convince her that she would find comfort in his arms. Everything about him beckoned her, invited her in, and called to her with a vigorous power that she barely managed to keep at bay.

"Hello, Dear."

Sierra quickly looked over her shoulder and smiled at Pearl, an elderly lady who often walked her little dog in the park. She had befriended her when she first made this park her home and the little old lady would bring her books to read and vegetables from her garden. She was one of the few humans that Sierra ever interacted with. She still found it extremely strange that humans had no glowing aura like everybody else. She looked at the old lady who always had a smile but not one iota of glow to her skin.

"Hello, Pearl!" She beamed as she watched her settle herself on the vampire's bench for a rest. The old lady sighed heavily as she sat down and kicked one shoe off. Mickey, a disheveled miniature schnauzer who hadn't been groomed in years, bounded up to her and wagged his tail happily. She giggled and petted his head. Pearl chuckled as she twirled her toes in the soft soil by the bench.

The old lady sniffed the air and looked around suspiciously before shrugging her shoulders. "Oh," she picked up her tote bag and started digging in it. "I almost forgot. I brought you some strawberries from my garden and that book you asked to borrow."

"Thanks!" Sierra splashed her foot in the water again as Mickey wondered a few feet away his leash dragging behind him, an insect had gotten his attention. "I have your other books in my den. I finished reading them a few days ago. And I have a surprise for you too!"

Pearl's serene eyes lit up and the wrinkles on her face deepened as she smiled. "A surprise? What sort of surprise?" she said as she leaned forward and handed her a book titled _Everything You Ever Wanted to Know about Vampires and More_.

"I can't tell you till I give it to you! That's why it's called a surprise," she laughed taking the book. "This is about true vampires, right? Not the false sparkling ones in the book series you brought me a few months ago."

"Oh those are the real ones all right. This book should help you avoid them better. A girl like you, Sierra… well you could be in real trouble if you ever came across one of those creatures."

"It's not to avoid them. I want to know more about their true nature. People go around them every night and are unmolested."

Pearl's brow creased in concern. "That's different, honey."

Sierra looked over at Mickey who was lapping up water from the lake. He had lost interest in the insect. "Why is it different? Just because I'm a maiden?"

"Well," the old lady began but paused. "Well what does an old bag of bones like me know anyway," she chuckled. "You can take care of yourself. That's for sure."

Sierra smiled at the protective human. If only the old lady knew what she was really capable of she would know exactly how much she truly could take care of herself.

Pearl and Mickey were Sierra's only friends and she had never even told them that she was half Earth Fae who had only lived out of the realm for seven months. Instead making up a story about how she was banished from her village in Mongolia and migrated to Dallas on the first airplane she had come across. Despite being forced to live in the wild lands since the age of twelve, she still remembers her life in the village and the small morsels she learned about humans from the special school the Fairies had made for her to accommodate her slow childhood growth rate. She knew enough to know that humans were oblivious to the existence of Fairies. She still had a lot to learn about Earth, humans, and the way people lived, but she was a fast learner and the books Pearl brought her, especially the college textbooks, and the stories she told were helping. She wondered if all humans were like Pearl. If they were, then she decided she really liked humans much better than the Fairies who had rejected her.

Sierra nibbled on a strawberry. "Delicious!" When she tossed the leafy stem in the dirt Mickey leaped over to it and sniffed. "Okay come on," she said standing up. "Time to go get your surprise."

She started trotting towards the other side of the park where the brick building with the bathrooms were. She was still tired but Pearl's visit had given her a sudden surge of energy and excitement. She had been working on her gift for weeks and she couldn't wait to give it to her.

"Wait up, Sierra!" Pearl called hobbling behind. "I'm old."

"I venture to wager you have yet reached your hundredth year," she called over her shoulder with a loud laugh. Mickey was barking happily and jumping in circles around her as she jogged to the structure up ahead.

"Might as well be with the way I move!" Pearl hollered across the lawn, carrying her shoes in one hand and her tote bag in the other.

Sierra burst into the women's bathroom and Mickey rushed to the third stall and sniffed the ground. "Move, Mickey, so I can open the door," she giggled.

Reaching to the floor, she lifted the two by two square tile that opened up into the Earthen stairwell that led down to her den.

As she made her way to the bottom of the steps, she looked around. She could hear Pearl at the top grumbling as she came into the bathrooms. Mickey leaped over to the far side of the domed den and started sniffing the leafy vines hanging down the wall.

She had revealed her den to Pearl and Mickey some months ago but it had taken a long time for her to trust them with her secret. She had explained to the old lady that the den was actually a basement the park engineers must have dug out under the bathrooms but never finished. She hated telling falsehoods to them but at the same time she didn't want to scare them. Pearl was human, she knew nothing of Fae magic. She couldn't bare the thought of losing Pearl and Mickey as friends. And even more crucial was the need to protect herself from the danger of humans finding out about her.

"Goodness gracious, it's dark in here," Pearl said coming down the steps.

Sierra looked up at the ceiling and closed her eyes as she took in a deep breath. The dim sparkles on the ceiling lit up brightly until the room was bathed as if it basked in the most starlit heaven ever created and the star flowers she had planted on the ground opened up to soak in the light. The lights and flowers would stay that way now all through the evening and night until dawn. Sierra immediately clapped her hands and said, "CLAP ON!" really loudly. Another lie she had told Pearl, claiming that she had found a broken light clapper that a park visitor had thrown away and she managed to repair it. In truth, she had simply found a magazine in the trash with an advertisement for the Clap On, Clap Off gadget.

"That's better," Pearl said, walking over to the crickedy old wooden table on the other side of the room where she always sat. "Now I'm not blind as a bat."

Mickey tried to jump up in Sierra's hammock bed but it spun and flipped upside down and he toppled to the ground on his face. He quickly stood up and walked away as if he had meant to do that.

Pearl pointed up at the ceiling and gasped, her wrinkly old face full of wonder. "You added the Orion constellation. That one is my favorite."

Sierra laughed and walked over to the cupboard to put the strawberries Pearl had given her beside some pomegranates she had picked from a wild tree yesterday along one of the parks hiking trails. She had spotted a pecan tree far off the trail as well and planned to go back after Pearl and Mickey left and harvest some before nightfall. After arranging her bounty in the cupboard, she walked to the hammock and sat the book on the stand beside it. "Okay, close your eyes."

Pearl squealed and scrunched her shoulders. She closed one eyelid and Mickey barked but it came out like a scruffy gurgle.

"Both of them! No peeking!"

Pearl huffed, pretending to be annoyed and trying not to smile. She closed both eyes, her eyebrows raised high so Sierra could tell her eyes were completely shut.

Tiptoeing over to the wooden chest beside the table, she opened it up and retrieved a potted tree that had already grown a foot high. The two tiny jewels hanging off the stems dangled and reflected the light from the ceiling.

"Okay, open your eyes!" She chattered with delight.

Pearl opened her eyes and gasped, putting her hands over her mouth. "Is that…"

"A Gemstone Tree!" Sierra said proudly. "I found the seed myself and grew it for you. As it gets bigger it will blossom emeralds, rubies, sapphires…" Sierra thought a second. "Oh yeah, and pearls of course! See," she pointed at a tiny white pearl hanging off the tree. "One already bloomed. And this one is a ruby."

"Oh my lord, honey! How did you manage to find something so magical?" Pearl gasped in wonderment.

Sierra stiffened up. The tree was full of magic but Pearl had never questioned the strange things she had around her den before. She mentally scolded herself for again failing to realize the nuances of human behavior. The truth was, Sierra forged the gems from the roots of the Earth and imbued their essence into a dogwood sapling but she didn't dare tell Pearl that.

Her eyes shifted to the pile of books Pearl had brought her several months ago. Among them were several college textbooks that she had asked for in an attempt to learn more about Earth civilization and the way humans learn and think. Science was a big part of their culture it seemed. Among the textbooks on her stand were _Geology_ , _Horticulture_ , and _A History of Modern Scientific Achievements_. Her mind worked quickly through her memory. Although it wasn't eidetic from birth like most fairies, it had become more powerful ever since she left the realm. She could remember almost anything she read but had difficulty with the complexities of human interaction. Many things she said were not quite in line with something a human would say, instead coming out slightly odd or offbeat and she knew it from the expressions Pearl made. She quickly looked back to Pearl.

"It's a genetically modified botanical organism." She shrugged trying to seem casual. "It's the vanguard of biotechnology." Sierra scratched her nose as she stared at Pearl, a tinge of guilt in her eyes at having to fib about her gift. "I wouldn't show anyone though or they may try to pillage it. You can't find these in village markets yet and you'd be hard pressed to find a barter merchant who has one in his wares."

"Of course. Makes perfect sense. Scientists and their GMO's," Pearl said with a mischievous wink. "I love jewels as much as I love plants! This is my two favorite things in one."

Sierra laughed happily. "Me too. My native homeland… Um, far away in Mongolia. My kin love jewels, too."

Pearl was grinning, her teeth showing as she reached out and gingerly took the plant.

"Also, the jewels will grow bigger if you wait to harvest them, but it's hard not to."

"I've never had such a wonderful gift! Thank you, Sierra! You are such a good girl," she said patting her hand.

Sierra smiled proudly, glad that Pearl loved her special gift so much.

"I wish I had been born with a fraction of your talent! Those foolish Mongolians have no idea what they lost when they banished you," Pearl said slyly as she fingered a baby jewel on her new tree. Mickey came over to sniff the plant and Pearl shooed him away.

Later that evening after Pearl had stopped rambling on about how Sierra should install some sort of real door on her den to make it a real home that vampires couldn't enter, she and Mickey had finally made their leave. Pearl made promises of visiting again soon when the tomato's ripened so she could bring some for her young friend to enjoy. Pearl loved working in her garden and Sierra imagined it was probably the biggest garden in Dallas.

It didn't take her long to make her way down the trail to the pecan tree. She forwent teleportation since she knew she was much too tired to attempt any serious magic right then.

Gathering the pecans in the skirt of her dress from the wild pecan tree, she looked up at the evening sky. There was still more than an hour of sunlight left. She loved to stay up at night and stargaze. She had never seen the stars and moon before coming here, and it was the most beautiful sights she had ever beheld, but she was sleepy. She had been all day and had already taken one afternoon nap. She rubbed her belly and grimaced as another cramp racked her body. She couldn't help but wonder if she had been afflicted with one of the many human illnesses or if she was just drained from removing the vampire's curse.

She yawned and sat down at the base of the pecan tree. After popping the shells off of a few pecans and eating the nuts inside, she leaned back and sighed heavily. She looked around at the tall grass surrounding her. Any humans hiking through the park would not be able to see her from the trail. She could just close her eyes for a few minutes and rest, and when she woke, she would be re-energized and would teleport back to her den under the park bathrooms to curl up in her hammock. Her eyes slowly closed as she drifted to sleep under the low hanging evening sun.

* * *

 **A/N:** I hope you enjoyed this chapter because it was like the 47th draft! What do you think of Sierra so far? And what do you think of the new and improved badass Godric and Section Black? Did you like the new OC's introduced: tenacious Twitch and peculiar Pearl? I'd love to hear your thoughts.

 **Special Thank You:** Thank you to Suzymeinen who worked on this chapter with her beta magic! And thank you to Navidasti and Royal Ember who talked about it with me for days and days while we picked it apart.


	3. Chapter 3

"I cannae believe Death himself has returned." The corner of Godric's lips twitched and he pressed the phone to his ear as he listened to the ancient Scotsman speak. He was talking to Emre, one of the heads of the Section Black hub in Istanbul that connected the European, Asian, and African Dynasties. Emre and Godric's bloodlines had been allied for nearly two millennia. "I dinna know if you understand the magnitude of what you propose to undertake, my old friend. We have yet to get a foothold in North America but if anyone can do it, it's you."

Godric leaned forward and put his elbow on his desk as he laid out his plans to Emre. They were bold and unprecedented, and on more than one occasion Emre got excited at the propositions that he put forth. Godric had spent more than fifty years in North America as Sheriff of Dallas, and no ancient knew better than he the problems they faced and what needed to be done to fix them. During the six centuries he served as Chief Enforcer of the European Dynasty the continent had risen to the pinnacle of vampire society. It was a beacon of prosperity and paradise for the race in an otherwise dark and brutal world.

Before that Godric was still a part of the organization but worked in other positions. A few centuries before the turn of the millennium he was working as an assassin in what had been known as the Greco-Roman region. Word had spread about a group of fierce warriors in the North who had been harassing the Northumbria monasteries off the shores of the British Isles. What interested Section Black the most about these battles was the evolution of technology in the region. The Norsemen had developed dragon ships, capable of long ocean voyages. The organization always liked to keep close tabs on the cultural and societal developments of humans as well as their technological achievements. It was vital to their survival that they were aware of what was happening in the human world so they could ensure they maintained obscurity.

The Norsemen had begun to raid the southern shores of England. This highly piqued Godric's interest because it was directly across the channel from his homelands of ancient Gaul. He had not visited the crude lands of his birth since he was turned vampire and he was curious how the descendants of his tribe had fared as the world changed from age to age.

Word reached Section Black that the Vikings were preparing a large force to travel down the Northwest coast. Knowing that vampires would flock to the battles, they put a call out to send a small group of Field Enforcers to the fairly primitive but rapidly progressing nations in the western lands. It was a delicate time for the race and they could ill afford to be discovered by humans. The race was enjoying their ambiguity as they lurked unseen on the fringes of human civilization. He volunteered to travel west and make sure that the local vampires didn't get carried away in their blood lust as the humans waged war with each other.

He arrived a few weeks before thousands of Viking berserkers sailed down the coast and landed in Aquitaine off the shores of southwest France, an area not far from his origins. It was one of the bloodiest battles he had ever seen and vampires had traveled from all around the region for the ripe pickings.

Drunk on death, his instincts got the better of him and he joined other vampires who were sprinkled in the fray of the battlefield as it raged with violence and barbarism. Despite being an ancient even then, he still lacked the self control in those times that he developed later.

As he fought, his blood raced with the thrill of battle, and a glint of something yellow caught his eye. He looked over to see a blood drunk Norseman carving and cleaving his way through the theatre of death. Gallant hands gripped gelid steel. A massive battle axe in one fist, a double-edged long sword in the other, he left carnage in his wake as he leaped from one opponent to the next. The human struck his enemies down with agility and swiftness despite his heavy blades.

The Viking was huge and his long flaxen hair whipped through the air, his head adorned with a cap helmet of thick iron on his crown. He loomed taller than every man around him as he twisted and twined his way with ease, cutting down his enemies. His valor was breathtaking and his prowess in battle was only equaled by his striking form.

Godric watched as eight Frenchmen surrounded the fearless Viking. He responded by raising his weapons and bellowing with laughter when they hesitated. "A dozen big bosomed women await me at the gates of Valhalla," he guffawed, pointing his battle axe at the leader and Godric couldn't help but smirk.

They ran at him, and they fell one by one to their sandy graves. That is when Godric collapsed to his knees as the call of the maker erupted in his heart for the first time. He never imagined it would illicit such intensity and all-consuming exhilaration that blazed in his very soul with untempered passion.

There were hordes of humans on the battlefield. The smell of blood perfumed the air. Death-cries of dying men and the clanking of weapons and shields drowned out the sounds of the splashing waves on the shore. Flames dotted the battlefield, spread haphazardly from fallen torches and fire arrows. Their embers licked the moonless black of the night, and the menacing flames illuminated the sodden earth that ran red with the blood of the vanquished. He lost sight of the Viking after a time. He would find him a few hours later on his funeral pyre and offer him immortal life.

"Godric." Emre's voice brought him out of his moment of nostalgia. "Who do you plan to use as your Second? There arenae many ancients in the New World to choose from an' Eric is a wee bit young for the role. There's no doubt though, many in the Old World would be eager to join you on this venture an' work under Death himself."

Emre was right about Eric's age. Though he was considered an ancient, only the most seasoned vampires were capable of fulfilling the position of Second. When Godric was Chief Enforcer of Europe he even required his Regional Agents to be no less than one thousand years. Since he desired to reconnect with Eric, sending him away was not part of his plan. Plus, he knew his child well. Eric was born to be a Prince and he was happy in his role as Sheriff of Area 5. "Eric has no desire to join Section Black."

"Ah, still enjoying ruling over his Area is it?"

"I have someone in mind. There is only one other who would qualify and our two bloodlines have a history of loyalty and allegiance to each other."

"Thalia?" Emre paused and there was a potent silence between them. "I dinna know. My sister hasn't been right since Singred met the true death. Has an ingrained hatred for humans now. She left a few decades after you."

"I have spoken to her on occasion. She has been keeping a watch and helping Eric for me. I thought he would do well to have another ancient in his area that is an ally."

Thalia and Godric worked on a project together a few centuries ago. At the time she had a young progeny named Singred born of the maker call. Shortly after Godric left Section Black their crypt was discovered by human teenagers. The boys piled kindling on her and her child while they slumbered for the day. When they were set afire Thalia awoke and killed the attackers but her progeny was already dead. Godric suspected that there were too many memories that haunted her in the Old World. Thus, a few decades later she retired from Section Black and moved to North America. That was only fifty years ago, when he first became Sheriff of Dallas. No amount of time was enough to recover from the loss of a progeny, but he hoped that his ambitious goal to establish Section Black in North America would give Thalia purpose again. He knew she would make a hell of a Second. She had extensive experience working for the organization, she was over two thousand years old, she was undeniably deadly, and she was one of the most traditional followers of the code he had ever met.

He planned to make a quick trip to Shreveport, hopefully tomorrow night, and pay her a visit. There were other things he needed to attend while he was there as well, such as touring a few sites for the new North American Dynasty headquarters and buying a nest big enough for his entire blood line that could be retrofitted to be vampire safe. He was also eager to see Eric since they had not seen each other since the 1940's. He knew he could surprise his child by slightly dampening the bond to seem as if he was still in Dallas. He would love to see Eric's face when he showed up unannounced and it was always good to check on his child and make sure he was living a lifestyle worthy of honor.

He felt the pull of the sun wane and knew that it had set. Suddenly he felt excitement surge through his body. It was time to visit his future child in her park.

"Emre, I will contact you in a few nights and report on my progress. It was a pleasure to speak to you once again, my old friend, but there is an important matter I must attend."

"I am pleased to have you back an' look forward to hearing from you again. Tell my sister Thalia she isnae far from my thoughts."

* * *

Sierra looked around at her moonlit cove. It was the place she went when she was in pain, a safe place her mind had created when she was a child. On some unconscious level she knew she was sleeping. In this place the debilitating cramps that plagued her recently and threatened to wake her melted away to nothing.

Her special place, this dreamscape, had changed significantly since she left the realm. Now the moonlight basked the cove, fireflies danced in the air, and shooting stars streaked across the sky. They were things she didn't know existed only seven months ago. A mix of Earthly and Fae realm aspects, it also had familiar plants that grew near her village, like flowers that got so big they were larger than even her and bushes who tiny buds twinkled like a Christmas tree.

She knelt down by the memory pool and looked into the murky blue waters that glowed with dream magic. She wanted to see the vampire again and she smiled when his face appeared. Reminding her of the events of the night before, she watched four frogs jumped into the small pool of water and it rippled violently. She focused on it again trying to conjure another image of him. This time she saw herself when she was eight years old. She shook her head angrily. No, she didn't want to see this. Bring back the vampire…

"You don't know what you say, Sierra. The Earth realm has monsters and hideous vampires that would devour you if they laid eyes upon you."

The small child Sierra frowned and shook her head exaggeratingly. Squeezing her teddy bear to her chest she looked up at the elder who was responsible for caring for her this month. "Must I go back to the scaffold? My back is yet healed from the first lashing."

The elder stood up and held her hand out to the girl. "Come, Sierra." Sierra shook her head. "See. This is why you are punished. You do not behave as you should."

Sierra started breathing quickly as if she was about to hyperventilate. "Please," she cried, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. "I do not understand why I offend my brethren."

The elder's jaw tightened and she reached deep within herself for patience. Bending down she said, "We talked about this at the hearing, Sierra. Your deformations, such as your slow growth, your learning impairment, your lack of ancestral memories—you are a burden on the village. These punishments will help you learn what is acceptable behavior. Not to speak like a child anymore, not to make silly mistakes. Enough is enough child."

"I… I p…promise I will grow faster like the others. I w…w…" She closed her eyes and breathed deep so she could speak. "I will get the answerable memories."

"Ancestral memories," the elder corrected grabbing her hand and pulling her to her feet. "Are you going to grow to adulthood in a week like other young Fae? It has already been eight years and you remain a child. It was a wonder your father had the fortitude to care for you as long as he did. And the school, that has turned out to be a farce. Your teacher spends every day of her precious time just on you, teaching only you, and you didn't even learn to read and write until you were four years old."

The elder started pulling Sierra out of the den by the hand.

"NO!" Sierra cried. "Please. Please. Please."

Two men waiting by the scaffolding saw them emerge. The elder was having difficulty controlling Sierra so they ran over to retrieve the girl. They dragged her towards the scaffold platform. She was kicking and screaming the entire way, gripping her teddy bears hand with desperation.

Within minutes she was pushed against a wooden pole at the center of the scaffolding, a platform raised a few feet above the ground so everyone in the village could witness her punishment. Her chin jutted out and her bottom teeth chattered as she cried incoherently, the tears in her eyes blurring out the images of the Fae below staring up at her, but she thought she saw her father.

"Gregor!" She cried. "Father, please, please. I want to go home." She blinked again but he was gone. Her breathing was rapid as she looked around in panic. She could feel them tying her to the pole. She whimpered as she felt warm pee flowing down her legs and she trembled on wobbly knees.

"Sierra," a voice bellowed out. It was the elder Garrett, the oldest elder in the village. He was addressing her. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

She swallowed hard, the tears still flowing down her cheeks. "I… I… am s…s…sorry. I d…didn't mean to offend w…with my in…incorrect speaking."

She tried to speak correctly like the adults but she was sobbing. Perhaps if they saw that she could speak like them they wouldn't punish her. Maybe if she avoided saying anything childish and silly they would let her go home.

"Good people of the Earth Fae. Sierra, the hybrid has been a constant burden on our people. You have all experienced this burden first hand. We expend great resources to care for her. We have built a school to accommodate her slow rate of learning. We have decreed that everyone take turns caring for her. We take no joy in punishing the girl but perhaps correcting her childish behavior will force her to learn what is acceptable and what is not. We are a proud people and the eight year old hybrid still gallivants around like a Fae who is no more than a few days old."

There was nodding and murmuring in the crowd and a few minutes later the braided leather whip cracked like a gunshot as it struck her back. Sierra's mouth fell wide and she screamed a high-pitched cry of broken sobs that could be heard in every corner of the village. Her tiny hand let loose its grip on her teddy bear and he fell away from her. The female Fae in the crowd covered their ears and looked away as the shrill screams and violent sobs of a little girl prodded at even their maternal instincts…

Sierra splashed her hand in the memory pool and quickly stood up. She didn't want to see that memory. It was the second time she had ever been punished and in many ways it was worse than the first, because she knew what they were about to do to her.

She felt her anger rise. They had made her feel as if she was all wrong, an abomination. Only when she came to the Earth realm did she find out that human children grew and learned at the same pace she had. She was glad that they had eventually banished her from the village when she was twelve. At least then she didn't have to fear punishment. It was only when she was thrust into the untamed wilds beyond her village that she began a journey of self awareness, learning who she was and what she was capable of. She blossomed into the strong woman she now was, surviving the monstrous whether that often swept across the realm and animals so large and vicious that they would use her as a bite-sized snack. She had become a force to be reckoned with and yet she still somehow managed to retain her zest for life as she basked in the magnificence of nature.

She walked over to a bush of hydra lilies and sniffed one, trying to forget about the old memory that reminded her of her life in the village. The punishment was not harsh for the Fae. They healed quickly and had a high tolerance for pain, but she was not fully Fae. She bore the streaked scars down her back that told the horrible story of her childhood. For the longest time she had hated the human half of herself, but over time she had come to learn it was a vital asset in her survival and helped her endure the trials of her life. The human in her made her resourceful, strategic, creative, and compassionate. Instead of blindly acting out of instinct she could think with her brain and if needed with her heart. She could enjoy, utilize, and manipulate all that nature offered and she saw the sentient streaks in all life, even the simplest creatures such as fireflies and lilies. On some level she could even communicate with them and those simple life forms seemed to bask in her attention. They loved her, sensing she was of the Earth.

Sierra smiled, feeling the anxious and wonderful feeling she had felt all day dance around in her heart. She reached up and touched her chest as the sensation pulsed with more strength. It was nightfall in the waking world she vaguely realized. She wondered how long she had been in her safe dreamscape. She lay down on the grass and closed her eyes. "Wake up, Sierra," she whispered and her dreamscape fizzled away.

Her brain was groggy as she came back to the waking world. So groggy that she couldn't muster the strength to open her eyes. She would just lay there and bask in the soft feel of the grass under her and the night air cooling her skin. Just a few more minutes of bliss she thought.

Without opening her eyes she rubbed her chest and groggily smiled. She felt much better after her short rest. Eyes still closed, she rolled on to her back and stretched her arms above her head. She sighed, a long throaty noise escaping her lips as she arched the small of her back off the cool ground and enjoyed feeling her muscles stretch.

She had seen her vampire's face in the memory pool while she dozed. She wondered where he was and what he did when he wasn't at the park. Was he happy now that she had freed him of his curse? She giggled and wondered when she had begun to think of him as her vampire. She had watched him for so long, it seemed right. "My vampire," she murmured in a breathy whisper.

"Yes?"

Her eyes shot open and her body stiffened as she lay there on her back. It was him, the vampire. He was there and it was not his night to come and he was in a part of the park that he had never ventured in before. He was squatting beside her on the balls of his feet, leaning forward on one arm as his closed fist pressed to the ground, his other hand on his bent knee. His head was slightly tilted, no expression on his face although his eyes seemed to glimmer with some unknown intensity.

Alarm bells sounded inside her, her Fae instincts blaring a warning to run which conflicted with the tingling ache in her heart that told her to stay and the inquisitive voice in her mind that told her to learn more. A horrible thought went through her mind that he had taken a liking to her and come back to finish his hunt. She wondered how long he had been squatting there watching her sleep and she gasped when she realized she had voiced her question out loud as her brain sobered with alarm and shock.

She slowly pushed herself up on her elbows, not taking her wary eyes off his. He tracked her every movement and just when she thought he might be a statue or a mirage he vanished, leaving behind him a blur and a gust of air that caused her hair to flutter.

She heard another rushed whoosh on the other side of her come and go and she sat up a little more with a gasp as she snapped her head in the direction of the noise. There was nothing but darkness and the grass swaying back and forth from a movement she had missed.

"Over an hour," his velvety voice caressed in her ear from behind. She yelped and looked over her shoulder as she slightly twisted to see his chest in her field of vision, a strange necklace dangling close to her hair and some sort of tribal marking that peaked through his open shirt, which was unbuttoned to his sternum. He was now squatting behind her, leaning forward on both arms as they caged in her shoulders. Her breathing became heavier. He had watched her sleeping for over an hour.

He leaned one of his shoulders forward and came even closer. She was frozen, unmoving as her eyes flicked up to his.

"Wh… What do you want?" she stuttered.

A tense pause hung between them as they studied each other. "The same thing as you," he finally whispered, his eyes flitting to her heart and back to her face.

She shrunk away from him as he spoke, focusing on his sharp fangs glinting in the moonlight. She had not been prepared for this encounter. Not like she was in front of the lake.

He leaned forward and inhaled deeply, his nose an inch away from her hair and that is when she realized he could smell her. Of course he could, she was unable to mask her scent while she slept. But if her scent would cause him to go insane as she had been told then he would have attacked her while she slept.

"Do not fear me," he said.

She furrowed her brow. "I fear nothing."

He seemed to like her response because he smiled with delight. She sat up fully and scooted a little farther away before settling herself. She didn't dare take her eyes from his. She would teleport away if he so much as touched her. She watched him as he sat cross-legged a few feet from her. She fidgeted slightly, trying to expel the need to move closer to him.

He awkwardly stared at her for the longest time. Finally tilting his head diagonally and down he watched his own hand as he twirled his fingers in the grass. Without moving his head, his eyes rose to meet hers, giving him the look of a harmless puppy. He looked so young with his antics but his aura told her that he must be older than even the most ancient elders of her village. "What is your name, child?"

She reached up to wipe her eyes. "Sierra."

He raised his head to look at her fully, his eyebrows arching. "Sierra," he smiled widely, purring her name with his strangely enticing accent. "That is a beautiful name." He inhaled deeply again, taking in more of her scent she was sure. "I am called Godric." He put his hand on his chest and slightly bowed his head when he introduced himself.

She tried not to smile, instead opted to give the impression of only slight interest. "I know that you are a vampire," she blurted without thinking and she suddenly felt very silly. Of course she would know. He had not tried to hide it. His fangs were fully extended as he was speaking to her that very moment, giving him a mischievous appearance as he grinned at her colossal revelation. Just then he moved his lip as if he was about to retract his fangs but they didn't budge. His cheek twitched in annoyance before he looked back at her and his ornery looking grin slowly returned.

"And I know you are a Fairy," he paused, "at least in part."

Her jaw tightened. "Is that why you came back on a night you have never come before?"

"No," he answered without hesitation. "Child," he added, addressing her.

That was the second time tonight he had called her a child. Was he trying to mock her slow growth rate and how did he even know she grew slowly as a child?

She narrowed her eyes. "Why do you call me such?"

"Child?"

She nodded.

"Because you are quite young and you are my ch…" He looked down plucking a blade of grass before looking back to her with softer eyes. "I know you are not a child. I shall not call you such if it offends you."

Her eyes slightly widened at his statement. He actually cared if he offended her or not. She shook her head. "No, I just thought you were mocking me. Please forgive my hasty assumptions."

He was looking at her with curiosity now. "Very well, _my child_." He said 'my child' very slowly, rolling it off his tongue like thick velvet and scrutinizing her for a reaction. His eyebrows arched when she slightly fidgeted but he said nothing.

She stiffened when he reached to his jacket and stripped it off. Tossing it aside, he glanced to see if his movement startled her and smiled when he saw she had not moved. He then proceeded to lie down and stretch out on the grass in the spot she had been sleeping as if he owned it. He supported himself on his elbow and propped one leg up, bending it at the knee. Facing her, the corner of his mouth twitched when her eyes slightly widened.

She had the distinct feeling that he was going to give her a sultry look and crook his finger at her, but he seemed oblivious to her as he picked up a pecan she had harvested earlier and sniffed it.

"For you," he said, looking at her and holding it up. "I plucked it from the underbelly of the Earth myself."

"What?" She narrowed her eyes incredulously, but a smile spread across her lips. "I harvested that very pecan with my own hand, not two hours ago."

"This?" He said looking at it and shaking his head. "No, I dug out half the Earth to retrieve this treasure for you. It only grows on the deep root of an ancient red pine."

She laughed and pointed. "That grows on the tree behind you."

He looked over his shoulder before looking at her and smiling. "Ah, I cannot fool you."

She scooted closer to him and plucked it out of his hand with a giggle. He stared at her, his face lighting up with his fangy grin, his hand still in the air as if he was holding the stolen pecan and watched her as she popped the shell off and put it in her mouth.

Looking down at him as he lay on his side she laughed a close mouth laugh while she chewed. "You are funny," she said after swallowing the remnants of the pecan.

"I was going to eat that," he said, his smile even wider as he looked up at her.

With a devious and knowing glint in her eyes she looked around the ground and picked up another pecan. Holding it out to him she said, "Eat this one." She was squatting only a foot away from him now, her suspicions of him seemed to be practically gone.

He raised one eyebrow sardonically. When he didn't retrieve it she popped the shell off and scooted even closer, plopping down on her hip and pushing the pecan against his lips.

"You will like it," she said smirking. When he slowly opened his mouth she laughed and popped it in hers and chewed. "You can't eat pecans."

She fell on her back beside him, closing her eyes and giggling as she chewed. When she opened them she stared up at the starlit sky. He was still propped on his elbow beside her, looking down at her now as she became lost in the heavens. An expression of contentment spread on his face.

"It's so beautiful, don't you think?" she said fixated on the twinkling stars.

"Yes," he whispered not taking his eyes off of her. "Very beautiful."

Her eyes flittered to his face and she realized he was not looking at the sky, instead staring at her. Though they were not touching he was so close, and his face was practically looking straight down at hers. The pull in her heart started singing even louder, telling her she could trust him. His eyes trailed over every inch of her face and oddly she didn't feel fear or awkwardness. In fact, she wanted him to know her and relished in his eyes brazenly trailing across her features as he committed every nuance to his memory. His eyes flitted around the golden pillow of her hair that was spread all around her head but he soon continued to shamelessly and dreamily move his eyes over her face. She felt a thrill when his gaze lingered on her lips for the longest time and she wondered if he was going to kiss her, but he didn't. When his eyes drifted across her jaw line and to her throat where they seemed to fixate longingly, her thrill soon turned to worry.

He must have sensed it because his eyes quickly moved back to her face where they continued their exploration. She also studied his face, searching it, discovering it as he was discovering hers. It was one of those moments, a moment when time itself seemed to stop and everything crystallized.

She liked his blue eyes that reminded her of the murky blue waters of her memory pool in her dream world. They almost seemed to be green if the light hit them just right. His jaw was strong and his eyebrows were strikingly handsome. His lips were slightly smiling as she stared at them. She decided, yes, she really liked his lips and her gaze lingered on them just as his had lingered on hers and she found herself wishing that he had kissed her. Finally when she looked back to his eyes she was embarrassed to see that he was already staring in hers, watching her as she fixated on his lips. His eyes were full of mirth and knowing as if he could read her every thought.

She quickly tried to think of something to say. "Your curse is completely gone after last night?" she blurted.

He tilted his head and looked down at her curiously. "Yes," he said slowly, furrowing his brow in thought.

"You didn't know you were cursed, did you?"

He shook his head. "No, my child. I did not."

"I saw your curse in your aura."

"You can see auras?"

She nodded. "Yes, a dark spot hovered over your heart and I knew then that you had been afflicted with a miserable dark magic. I do not know exactly how long but I think it was at least a hundred years."

He shook his head in disbelief. "And you thought you would just come up to a vampire and…"

"Heal it."

He smiled, his head still resting on his hand as he supported himself with his elbow. He gazed down at her in wonder. "Sierra," he moved his hand out a little and she hesitated but finally put her palm in his. His touch was cool but surprisingly soft and gentle as he wrapped his hand around her smaller one. He sighed with contentment and closed his eyes briefly before looking at her. "Minn hjarta, do you understand what is happening?"

Her face was expressionless as she moved on her elbow to face him. When she didn't answer he must have known she was indeed confused and he continued.

"You." He spoke softly as he moved their joined hands slightly towards her. "And me." He squeezed her palm as he brought it to his heart. "We were made for each other in every way. Do you understand?" He paused. "I feel it here, in my heart, as do you."

Her eyes widened. "You are feeling what I am feeling?"

He nodded, barely moving his head as he searched her face.

"What does it mean?"

"It means…" he took in a deep breath. "It means you were born to be a vampire."

She quickly sat up and pulled her hand from his. He sat up too, frowning slightly that she was pulling away from him, but he had expected such a reaction.

"It…" She shook her head and looked away. "But I'm half Earth Fairy. Vampires and Fae…" she looked back at him, her face contorted in disbelief and pain. "It's forbidden. It's…"

"It's your destiny, and mine. Destinies know nothing of the histories of our races."

"How do you know? How can you be so sure I'm meant to be a vampire?"

He fisted his palm over his chest with force. "The call of the maker. It is never wrong."

He picked up both her hands and held them as they sat facing each other. She swallowed hard. "How do I know… How can I be sure you speak the truth?"

"Your heart tells you so. You feel it, do you not?"

He was right. She did feel it. There was no mistake the vampire who sat in front of her was the path she was always meant to take. Everything in her life, everything she had experienced, all that she endured had been preparing her for this and she knew it. No matter how much she tried to fight what he was saying her heart was pulling at her, winning that battle and there was nothing she could do about it. Tears started flowing down her face, she wasn't sure if she was angry, depressed, or overjoyed. It was probably a combination of all three.

Despite everything she was feeling, and knowing that her destiny called to her, she didn't think she could do it. She was of the Earth, part of the circle of life, and intertwined in the never ending chorus of consciousness that pulsed in everything around her. It defined her very existence. She feared she would lose all that she was if she became a vampire.

She looked deep in his ancient eyes as he gazed at her with hope and concern. The look he gave her nearly made her crumble. Just as she feared losing all that she was she equally feared losing this vampire who she barely knew. She didn't know why such feelings smoldered within her so profoundly. She put her face in her hands and tried to choke back the sobs that threatened to pour out of her.

"Minn hjarta," she felt his cool hand on her bare shoulder. "I know that this is a great deal to absorb," he whispered. "Tell me your fears, child. I can help."

Yes. Yes, he could help. Everything in her told her he would know the answers. He would guide her. She wasn't sure how she knew this but she soon found herself trying to explain to him what ailed her.

"I… I am of the Earth." She reached out and picked up a fallen leaf on the ground. "The Maple that this leaf fell from. I feel it, I know it, I understand it. He is an old one and even now has aspirations of spreading his saplings across the park to build a vast empire of Maples that will rival the Oak."

Godric's lips twitched as he struggled to prevent himself from smiling.

"Look," she pointed to a nearby patch of dirt where no grass was growing. She reached her hand out and the dirt slowly started rising off the ground until it was twirling like a small slowly spinning tornado. "The Earth is my playground." She clenched her fist and the dirt started gathering into a tiny ball. When she opened her fist the small ball that had formed was no longer dirt and something heavy fell to the ground. Godric peered at it, and his lips parted when he saw it was a fairly large diamond sparkling in the moonlight. She had applied pressure to the dirt from ten feet away until it had formed a diamond "And I can command it at my will. I can heal it. I can destroy it. I can sprout new life from it. It is who I am."

Godric stared at her dumbstruck and found himself uncharacteristically swallowing hard. His future child was much more powerful then he realized and he was sure more than even she realized. She was so young and she was already manipulating the environment, she had healed him of an unnatural ailment, she seemed to be in tune with everything around her. With proper training she could most likely be one of the most powerful immortals to walk the Earth. But he understood her dilemma and he knew her fears were unfounded.

"If you became a vampire you would not loose who you are and you would gain more than you know. You will still be of the Earth. But you will also be of my blood." She yelped when he was moving towards her at vampire speed. He was on his knees in front of her, his face looming mere inches above hers as he grasped her face in his hands. "Listen to me, minn hjarta. The call of the maker would not be possible unless… unless you were near your end."

A silence hung between them as she absorbed what he had just said. She thought she heard him say she was near her end. "Do you mean…"

"Your death."

* * *

 **A/N:** *Ducks." Sorry about the cliffy. *Wry smile* So you got a glimpse of some of the problems Sierra had in the Fae realm. You got a bit more about her powers. You also learned a tinsy bit more about Section Black and Godric's history and his plans for the future concerning that. Ooo... Thalia... whatcha think of that? Hmm... what else... oh their first real meeting of course... Intense, playful, and sober as reality struck. Wonder how Sierra is gonna take this news of her impending death and what else she has to say about Godric wanting to turn her. Anyway, I'd love to see your review. It is my only reason for living.

If you're looking for another great Godric story then go read my good friend Royal Ember's "In the Shadow of the Oak" it'll rock your socks.

 **Special Thank You:** Thank you Suzymeinen for your beta magic! Thank you Navidasti and Royal Ember for dealing with my plot bunnies and giving me inspiration!


	4. Chapter 4

**BETA:** The amazing suzymienen. Thanks to Navidasti and Royal Ember as well for all the plot bouncing.

* * *

Godric looked down at Sierra and he became fully aware of just how small and fragile her petite form was. He was not a large male by any means, but he dwarfed her. The top of her head was below even his chin, and when he held her hand, his palm swallowed hers. Her size served to only make him more fiercely protective of his future child.

Not only was he protective, but he found he adored her. For in that small body he knew laid a fascinating mind, innocence balanced with a strength he thought endearing, and a plethora of mysterious magic that bubbled just below the surface.

He was attracted to her he realized, aroused even. When she touched him or looked into his eyes, the silver of her irises almost hypnotizing him with their exotic allurement, he was shaken. She jolted his sensual beast, roaring it to life from its timeless slumber.

He had found her dozing in a bed of grass, laid out like the sweetest of prizes for any lecherous passerby. And yet, it was his menacing eyes that had fallen lustfully upon her sleeping form. He had leered at her for over an hour, violating her shamelessly with his roving eyes. He cursed himself for it. It concerned him. He was not sure he was suited for that sort of love, or if she would even want him if he was. The last thing he desired was to take advantage of a young and vulnerable progeny.

The call of the maker did not illicit romantic feelings or force physical attraction. It was simply a spark of unconditional love and trust that tugged and pulled inside relentlessly. The call served to merely make the maker and future child aware that they were a perfect match for eternal companionship. It forced the walls down that one often builds around their heart and mind. It shined a gleaming beacon on their compatibility, and the pull drew them to each other through a myriad of complex and deep instincts that lay at the most primal and untapped areas of the brain. It was up to the maker and progeny to fan that spark into an eternal fire of faith. Romantic feelings were not part of the intricate bond that the call of the maker stirred.

He knew well the secrets of the call. He and Eric complimented each other in every way. Their personality, temperament, humor, strengths, and weaknesses were all a perfect balance with each other. They would have been without the call of the maker yanking on Godric's heart and triggering the fierce maker instincts even before he turned Eric. Its simple function was like a signal, telling him not only were they suited for each other in every way, but the human was also fit mentally, physically, and spiritually for immortality as a vampire. Coupled with this, the fact that the call could only occur under the veil of an impending fate accounted for its rarity.

Godric was in denial of the warm and fuzzy feeling that welled in his heart when Sierra and he looked at each other. He tried to reason it was because she was so small, so young, and so beautiful. He genuinely believed her nature was just making him more protective, more possessive, even more affectionate, and that must be the reason he longed to hold her hand or why fleeting thoughts of more than eternal companionship plagued his mind.

That must be it, he told himself. He was just an overly-protective maker. Due to the call and the implications of being triggered by the approaching death of the human, it tended to cause the first nights of the union to be a shocking and anxious time for both maker and child. Emotions ran high and though he probably knew himself better than any immortal could, he tried to reason that those emotions must be confusing his feelings with romantic desire. He was in denial of the truth, and that truth was he wanted her as much more than a progeny, even much more than carnal needs of the flesh, but he feared pushing himself on her. She was his charge. He was committed to her for eternity. The entire celebration of turning a progeny was based off companionship and trust. Romantic love on his end could cause tension if she didn't feel the same. It was not worth the risk of losing her should she demand release soon after being turned so he tried desperately to temper those feelings, and yet, he was failing miserably.

Godric and Sierra were strolling along the hiking trail he had found her near. They had been discussing his words for some time and she had hardly spoke. Her silence was a clear indicator of her distress at learning about her fate. He knew it was not easy for her, learning that she was dying, that she was destine to be vampire, but her strength impressed him. There were many humans that would jump at the opportunity to be immortal, no matter the cost. Though she didn't voice it directly, he was already beginning to understand what lay in her heart; she wanted to be true to who she was, even if it meant her death. Now his job was to help her see this is who she was always meant to be.

"I do not know, minn hjarta," he said. He gazed into her big eyes. His future child wanted to know why she was dying, and honestly, he did too. It perplexed and worried him. He wanted to know how dire the situation was, so if need be, he could move quickly and prepare her for immortality. He was ready to turn her before dawn, if by the fates, she was willing. "The call of the maker is not evoked unless the injury which will cause death has been delivered or a fatal illness has erupted within the body. One of which cannot be healed or cured."

He tracked her movements as she looked down and put her hand on her belly, realization flitting across her features.

Halting their stroll, he put his hand on her arm and gently turned her to face him. "What is it, my child?"

"My… I have been ill as of late, especially after I cured you. I believe my energy was drained from healing the curse. I have been tired and my stomach ails me."

Godric felt like he had just been head butted in the nose and he grimaced. A consuming worry rose deep within him. Was he responsible for the fatal malady that would precipitate her death? Had she become a casualty of the curse that was meant to be his burden, his downfall? If it were so, it would be a cruel cloud that would loom over them as they began there eternal adventure together.

"But sometimes I felt tired and ill before that, just not nearly so profoundly," she added, sensing his distress. "I have pondered my plight since the pain has intensified and it was present before last we met, but the aches and exhaustion struck in rarer frequency."

The tension in Godric's muscles slightly relaxed. Though he was still extremely anxious regarding her health, he was relieved that the removal of his curse was not the root of the problem. He shuddered at the thought that she could possibly be infected by his miserable affliction. He wondered if perhaps the great deal of magic she had used to purify him simply fatigued her, allowing whatever illness already present to escalate.

He sniffed. He smelled no odor of sickness about her and she seemed perfectly healthy.

"Especially when I eat," she continued. "Earlier today I ate a pomegranate and a few strawberries and I… I hurt after."

He rubbed his hand up and down her arm soothingly. What he really wanted was to curl her up in his embrace and hold her, make it all better, tell her he would help her.

"Would you allow a healer to examine you?" Godric knew that even Dr. Ludwig would not be able to heal an ailment that could trigger a maker call. However, he desired to know what was wrong with his future child so he would be armed with the information he needed.

Thus, a short time later they were standing in what Sierra said was her home, waiting for Dr. Ludwig's arrival. It was a dug out cave in the Earth, and despite its humble and meager arrangement, Godric couldn't help but be both impressed and deeply concerned.

He was worried that his future child was living alone in a public park of all places, under the bathrooms. Any vampire could walk in while she slumbered, following her scent as he had when he found her under the pecan tree. She had very little, and the things she did own she had either made herself or foraged. His child deserved everything and he wanted to give it to her.

On the other hand, her small home was spectacular beyond words. The starscape on the ceiling of her den matched the stars in the heavens almost perfectly and the creative detail and work she must have put into it had him awe-struck. The floor was not dirt, but was covered from wall to wall in a bed of strange flowers that seemed to glow with their own light, a color that resembled the black lights he had seen many times in disco clubs during the 70's. Strategically placed stepping stones were on the floor so she didn't tread on her prized flowers. The walls were also covered in leafy vines that dangled to the ground.

The meager furniture she had all seemed carved by her own hand. He ran his fingers along the smooth surface of the table, and though it was plain in design, the craftsmanship was better than any he had ever seen.

"How long have you lived here?" He asked looking from the table to her.

"About six months," she smiled. "It took me a month before that to construct it and I have dwelled here since."

He meandered over to some sort of workbench near the opposite wall while he analyzed her words. It was covered in crude containers of assorted sizes that she had collected, probably thrown out by humans. They were filled with dirt and some of them had plants growing out of them. There was even an old guitar hanging from the ceiling beside the table with some strange plant growing vigorously out of the sound hole. It had long tubular flowers with varying shades of orange and red. Godric reached up to touch one of the blooms, which was nearly the size of his hand, and shockingly, it hissed at him.

He looked over at Sierra when he heard her giggle.

"It's a cross between a trumpet creeper plant I found in the park, a lizard, and a touch of frog. It took me many months to achieve success. I'm not nearly as good as an elder since I don't have the…" She paused. "It keeps my den free of bugs."

Godric looked back to the plant and watched as a fly buzzed irregularly towards one of the flowers. Suddenly a long skinny tongue, longer than five lengths of his hand, jetted out and snatched the fly, pulling it inside the hidden lair of its long trumpet. Sierra could manipulate life and nature on a genetic level! He wondered what other sort of creatures she could create.

Finally, he turned back to her. He was determined to find out as much as he could about her current situation, and perhaps, even how she came to live here. "So seven months in the park, six months in this den. And before that?"

She looked away and circled her arms around her waist as if she was trying to protect herself. Clearing her throat and looking back to him, she spoke in a more hushed tone, "I lived in the Fae realm."

His eyes flicked down to her arms as she shrank smaller and hugged herself. Something was distressing her and it was not lost on him. His fangs ached seeing her pain and the maker in him flared a bit stronger. He looked around at her den and raised a hand to gesture at the surroundings. "I do not understand, my child. Why would you leave your realm and live here alone?"

Her face softened and for a moment he thought she was going to cry, but a strangled laugh softly rung from her throat. Then to his dismay, her brow furrowed and she frowned. Her face became strained, giving her a childlike appearance as she reddened with shame and humiliation. "I prefer this realm." She shrugged one shoulder and looked away, her voice trailing off. "I have lived alone for many years. It is safer, living alone. I… I…"

She closed her eyes and rubbed one hand nervously on her upper arm. Then she turned and walked away, busying herself with the inspection of her leafy wall.

His vision darkened like black clouds that play about the coming storm. Something was wrong. Something was terribly, terribly wrong. His eyes swept her face, her fragile form as he deciphered her body language, as he absorbed her words, trying to glean the answers he yearned to know. A dark secret lay in her soul, hidden in a great depth below a block of granite. Someone had hurt her. Someone had hurt Sierra. Anyone who has lain hand upon his precious child would find themselves falling to their crimson grave at his feet like wheat falls to the reaper's sickle.

He wanted to know what tormented her. He could see it dancing deep in her pale eyes as it creeped its way into the hollow places of his heart, slithered in the rivers of his blood, embedded itself in the crevices of his bones. It was almost unseen, but it was there, and it was like a small animal beating about the cruel wires of a cage.

Despite the fact that he desperately wanted to know more, he decided to change the subject. He could see this conversation was hurting her and it would be something they would revisit later, perhaps when she was ready to confide in him.

"I don't think that you are," he said standing in the middle of the den, watching her twine her delicate fingers around the vines on the wall, "safe living here alone I mean."

The noise of the door to the bathroom opening, followed by grumbling and the shuffling of feet along the floor, drifted down the steps and into the den. Godric looked up to the square of light at the top of the earthen stairs where the tile door still lay ajar. He immediately smelled the familiar odor of vinegar scented lotion and chocolate covered corn kernels that often accompanied the small healer he knew as Dr. Ludwig.

No one really knew what species she was. It was a great debate among the supernaturals. Though it had been a very long time since he talked to Eric before last night, Thalia reported to him once that his child even claimed she was a keebler elf like on the cookie commercials. However, Godric suspected the doctor was a cross between a urisk (called a brownie by modern humans) and a grim-reaper, both of which were forms of a demon. The brownie would account for her size and the grim-reaper would account for her uncanny ability to detect afflictions of the body, thus arming her with the knowledge to heal them. Plus, he had killed a grim-reaper once that tried to take his meal before he was finished and it had the same chocolate covered corn kernel smell.

He saw her face peak down the narrow stairs and she cursed under her breath before turning around and stepping on the top step backwards. Godric rushed up to take the doctor's bag while she huffed and turned around similar to how a penguin might.

"Well this is perfectly normal," Dr. Ludwig growled as she waddled down the steps, supporting herself with a hand on the earthen wall as she went. "You would think the girl is a Wood Nymph living in a hole in the ground."

"She is half Earth Fairy," Godric said giving Sierra a look. "The doctor is discrete. I have known her for many centuries."

Dr. Ludwig stopped in her tracks. "Oh," she deadpanned, her voice laced with a bit of shock. "I have been healing for over a millennium. I have never met anyone with more than the smallest streak of Fairy in them. They tend to be quite capable when it comes to injury and illness."

"My people have many healers," Sierra tried to explain. "And only elders leave the realm for holiday or business."

The doctor looked at Godric and grumbled. "Not that I don't appreciate being called to a dirty hole at midnight by the infamous Death himself," she bowed sarcastically, "but why am I here? My assistant said he was too nervous to ask when he realized it was you on the phone."

A low growl, too low for Sierra's half-human sense of hearing, rumbled from Godric and the doctor flinched away slightly. He was greatly displeased that the doctor had insulted his future child. Satisfied that he had made his point he began to speak. "I have received the call of the maker for Sierra."

Dr. Ludwig peered over at his future child with a look of knowing. "I see. It is clear she is not mortally injured. So it's safe to assume you wish to know what illness has afflicted her. You do realize it will be incurable by both medicine or blood?"

Godric nodded, his calm facade giving nothing away of his deep concern for Sierra. "It is vital that we know more about her sickness." His eyes shifted to his future child and his heart ached. "I do not want to miss the window afforded us."

The doctor shuffled over to Sierra and held her hand out to the chair beside the table. It was the only place to sit in the entire den. Sierra sat and the doctor looked at her curiously. "Symptoms?" She asked pulling Sierra's mouth open and looking inside.

"Ey omach urts," she said with her mouth open. The doctor let go of her jaw and started pushing on her stomach with the tips of her fingers. "And I'm very tired."

"Have you consumed citrus or been in contact with iron?"

Sierra shook her head and looked up at Godric as he came closer and leaned against the table beside her, half sitting on it, half standing. He was watching the doctors every movement with the eyes of a hawk.

"Hm," the doctor said curious.

Godric raised his eyebrows and he stiffened slightly. "What?"

"She has no spleen." Dr. Ludwig pushed on Sierra's midsection again. "It should be here. Have you had it removed?"

Sierra's brow creased slightly in confusion and she shook her head.

"Is that a vital organ?" he asked with worry.

"Quite useless actually." She looked up at Sierra. "If she was a human," she added. "I once had the unfortunate pleasure of having to operate on a hybrid who was 1/10 fairy. His spleen had ruptured and needed removal. He started falling ill a few months later. We didn't know it at the time but if you are a fairy the spleen removes trace amounts of iron in certain foods. Rare but not impossible, it would seem you were born without one. How long have you had symptoms?"

Sierra thought for a second. "They started a few months ago but I felt very bad yesterday after I…" She looked up at Godric. "After I used a great deal of magic and even worse after I ate. Although tonight my ailments have subsided since I woke."

Dr. Ludwig stood up and faced them both. "I am almost positive you are suffering from slow iron poisoning. The reason you feel better tonight is easily explainable." The doctor held her hand out to Godric to speak.

He knelt down in front of Sierra and took her hand. "The body often fights harder when you are around your future maker. If you were mortally injured it would allow precious minutes for you to be turned. The same applies for afflictions of the body."

Sierra drew a breath as her chest slowly rose.

"Your poisoning is most likely due to the absence of your spleen. Your body can't process iron in food. Being born without a spleen is not unheard of. What I don't understand," the doctor continued, "is why you have only been suffering for the last few months. You are half Fae. Iron would be much more poisonous to you then say a 1/10th fairy. In reality you should have died as a child. All foods have a little iron in them."

Godric looked up as he remained in a kneeling position in front of Sierra. "She has only been out of the Fae realm for seven months."

Dr. Ludwigs mouth formed an 'o' as she looked at them. "What sort of food did you usually consume when you lived in the Fae realm?"

"When I lived in the village," she fidgeted nervously, "until I was twelve. I ate the foods we grew. Most of them were from seeds that our forelders manipulated with their spark from native plants of the realm." She scratched her nose nervously. "After that… um… It was decided… um… I left the village. I lived in the wilds. There was not much to eat, but there was a nut tree near the den I hollowed and I was proficient with the sling. I was able to hunt creeps."

She looked up at the doctor who looked both shocked and confused and she gestured to try and explain.

"A creature about the size of a male's palm." She held her hand out for emphasis, before tucking it back around her waist. "It sort of looks like a large Earth spider with hard armor. They live under rocks."

"Sierra," Godric's soft voice drew her attention and she looked at him. "Why did you leave your village and live in the wilds at the age of twelve?" His voice was grave and he struggled to contain the miserable worry that welled inside him. He could practically taste her apprehension in the air.

Her big eyes, framed by long lashes, stared at him and he could see her emotions switching off like lights as her eyes became vacant and dead. Godric felt like a silver bullet had just struck him in the heart.

Was her village destroyed? No. That did not seem practical. She said she left the village. He thought for a moment as he looked at her strangled expression. Did she run away? Was she running from something? He sucked in a sharp breath. Was his Sierra outcast from her village? Is that why she was no longer living in the Fae realm? Had they cast her out from the village and eventually from the realm?

The thought haunted him. His face fell somberly and he ground his teeth together. His body felt heavy, every muscle felt like concrete… concrete plummeting to the bottomless depths of an icy ocean.

The doctor cleared her throat, cutting through the silence. "It's possible the foods she ate in the village were specially designed to lack iron and it would not be impractical given the Earth Fae's skill with nature and the possibility that food their may lack iron. As for the food in the 'wilds'… nuts contain large quantities of an enzyme called Phytates that block most iron absorption but still wouldn't account for her lack of poisoning. The creature she hunted; I have no idea, it may have had something to do with saving her, some sort of enzyme that could have remained in her system for several months after she came here and started eating Earth foods. I would have to examine it to be sure."

He didn't take his eyes off of Sierra as he talked. "Doctor, what foods can she eat that will not harm her?"

"There is no food on Earth that is safe for her to eat. Nuts and Grains however, are the best choice. Both contain phytates which will lower her iron absorption," she answered reaching in her bag to retrieve her stethoscope as Godric began speaking again.

"What is your prognosis?" he asked, dreading the answer for Sierra's sake.

"Well," she said putting the stethoscope in her ears. "If she spends most of her time around you and eats low iron foods it should slow the progression of the poisoning. Iron poisoning, even in small amounts, is very serious. Given her lack of a spleen her body has no way to filter iron absorbed into her blood from the foods she eats. My best estimate… a month, if we're lucky. If she continues as she is, the state her body is in… she could die as early as a few days. It depends on what she eats and how often she sees you. Contact with you will give her body that extra bit of fight she needs to function properly. I can also prescribe high dose calcium pills which will help block iron absorption."

Sierra's face fell and her eyes moistened with the impact of what she had just learned. Godric who was still kneeling in front of her, squeezed her hand to reassure her. "My child," he said softly, reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear. "I will not let you meet your true death." He engulfed her small hand in both his larger ones and brought it to his face. Kissing her knuckles and exhaling on her skin, he spoke. "You have my unyielding devotion, minn hjarta, and I will teach you, care for you, protect you for all of eternity if you will have me. If you will walk with me through the ages I will show you life as you have never known."

Sierra's lips parted and she drew in a shaky breath, her chest expanding slowly. Her hand still held to Godric's face, she rubbed her thumb along his chin and tilted her head as she watched him, her face welling with new emotions. She was touched by his words and her heart filled with a softness she had never felt. She believed him and he could see that belief in her eyes.

Their tender moment was interrupted by Dr. Ludwig. She gasped when she went to slide the listening end of her stethoscope down the top of Sierra's dress on her back. "My gods," she blurted. "What has happened to your back?"

Sierra whimpered as Godric stood up to look over her shoulder. She quickly teleported out of the chair and to the middle of the room, but not before Godric saw the angry scars on her back when Dr. Ludwig slightly tugged her dress down. He recognized them. He had seen those types of scars during his time in ancient Rome. They were the unmistakable marks that a slave often wore from the lash of a leather whip. He himself had bore fresh wounds that would have turned into scars had his future maker not healed him after every beating.

He swallowed his anger and quickly composed himself before she saw the heated flaring of his nostrils. His fears were just confirmed. Someone had brutally hurt his precious minn hjarta! He looked at her as her eyes darted around the room in panic and he realized she was seconds from fleeing. The situation had gone from a moment of tenderness to suffocating tension in less than a minute. He held his hand up cautiously and slowly stepped towards her as if he was trying to calm a cornered animal. He shoved his feelings aside and focused on her. This was about her well-being, not about his anger and sadness at learning she had endured a terrible injustice.

"Sierra," he said calmly, his face masked with serenity. "Come to me, my child."

He couldn't command her, couldn't even track her if she masked her scent and fled, but he knew her instincts had already flared to life. The instincts of a progeny were already present within her, and he hoped she would obey him, for her own good.

"I… I do not want to be examined anymore," she groaned in protest, her face screwed up in dark emotions.

"Doctor," he said without taking his eyes from Sierra. The healer took that as her queue to leave and began hastily gathering her belongings in her bag. Interfering in the delicate interactions between a vampire who has felt the call and his potential progeny could be a deadly situation for outsiders, and Dr. Ludwig was well aware of this. The only time a vampire was more protective or aggressive to others was the first few months after he turned his child.

"I..." the doctor began as she glanced over at Sierra. Even she, who usually had a snarky remark for everything, was at a loss for words. "I will have the calcium pills sent to you in the morning." She nodded to Godric as she skirted the wall around him and made her way back up the earthen steps.

After he heard the bathroom door swing open and close, he took another step towards the frightened girl. "The examination is over, Sierra. The healer is gone." He held both his arms out, beckoning her to his embrace. "Do not be afraid, my child. Come to me."

She hesitated a moment before her eyes settled on him, a deep pain brewing in those silver-blues. He could see how much she wanted to come to him, to give in to his offer of love and understanding, a genuine and true offer that only a maker could provide. He hoped she would follow the call, the instinct that told her he could provide her the strength she needed if only she would envelope herself in his outstretched arms. He tried to convey what was in his heart as he looked at her with softness, with gentleness, with the strength of the ancient and wise maker that he would be for her.

The tension in his heart abated as she leaped in his arms and pressed herself hard against him with a breathy whimper of relief. She buried her face in his chest as her desolate tears moistened the skin over his heart, their heady perfume intensifying the already pleasing aroma of her scent in the air.

She melted against him and his arms wrapped around her, cocooning her in safety, soothing her as he rubbed her back. They both felt the contentment wash over them as they held each other for the first time. He savored the moment for he knew there were so few firsts in the life of an immortal, but he was hopeful, and he luxuriated in the promise of an everlasting embrace. A soft purr rumbled deep in his throat which was hoarse and rusty because he had not used it in so very long. He drew a sharp breath that momentarily broke his purr, and he closed his eyes in grief as he felt the raised scars under the thin fabric of her tattered dress.

The scars were old.

She had been abused as a child.

Beaten.

Tortured.

Abandoned.

Disregarded.

He squeezed her tighter against him, and buried his nose in her hair at the top of her head. Her alluring scent calmed him. It reminded him that though she had known nothing but betrayal and abandonment, emotionally scarring her young heart, she was unique. He saw a strength within her that he would help her realize.

She had survived. She had survived it all with her beautiful personality in tact. The abuse. Living alone in the wilds as a child. Coming to a new world she probably knew nothing about, most likely by force. Her strength was there, he saw it, and it was amazing.

She was a fighter. A warrior. A survivor.

He wanted to take her away that very moment and tuck her safely under his wing, never let her go, give her the world in his palm. He wanted to show her love, trust, and faith as she had never known it. He looked at her with tender eyes.

"Oh, Sierra," he whispered, smoothing both hands in her honey-colored tresses. Her disheveled hair cascaded through his fingers, along with the grass and bits of leaves that clung to it from her earlier sleep along the trail. He wondered if she had ever had a shower in her life, or even knew what one was. She most likely bathed without soap in the lake, and probably had done similar her entire life in an attempt to stay clean. He ran his hands down her back, down the dress that was much to small for her, tattered at the hem in a stringy mess. It barely covered her bottom and it was clear she had no undergarments as he had wolfishly discovered with his trespassing gaze while she slept. Her dress looked years old, squeezing her tiny body and the skirt was even ripped all the way to her waist on one side, exposing her fleshy hip. His heart hurt. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply as a thought of her trying to stay warm in the winters fleeted across his mind.

"My child," he said softly, squeezing her tighter against him. His arms circled all the way around her, engulfing her fully in a blanket of his body. "Do you have any idea how special you are to me?"

She shook her head against his chest and he chuckled lightly under his breath.

He looked down at the top of her head curiously as he continued to hold her. "How old are you, minn hjarta?"

"I am well past seventeen Earth cycles," she said pressing the side of her face against his bare chest as she pulled his shirt open slightly. She seemed to be looking at his Section Black necklace as her fingers caressed the diamond shaped fangs and the ruby shaped drop of blood that fell from one. So his Sierra liked jewels did she? "I will soon be upon my eighteenth year."

His eyebrows lifted. "When?"

"About a week."

"A week?" His lips parted. "Your birthday is in a week?"

"Mhmm," she sighed, and put her palm flat against his sternum experimentally before she moved it along his skin, over his tattoo and towards his throat. He had the feeling she had never been embraced and probably rarely got to experience touching another or being touched herself. It was something he could relate to. Time had hardened his heart but her touch softened him, forcing out a tender side he didn't know he possessed. He watched her as she seemed lost in the feel of him. He was very aware of everywhere she touched him and he reveled in the feel of her small hands fluttering gently over his skin. "How old are you?" she finally asked.

He laughed as his hands fell to her shoulders. "I am an old man," he teased. "2764 years."

She looked up at him, craning her neck and her expression of utter surprise made him smile. "Truly?"

"Truly," he chuckled. "But I am more interested in your birthday. This is cause for great celebration." And he wondered if she would be birthed a vampire the same day of the year she was birthed a mortal.

Her brow furrowed in confusion but the corner of her lip lifted into a crooked smile of wonder. "Celebrate my birthday?"

"Yes," he said smiling, drawing out the s, his lips open as he gave her an eyeful of all of his fangs and teeth. "I shall give you the moon and the stars," he said slyly, adding the double meaning that he was sure she didn't understand.

She laughed so happily that her eyes closed in merriment and she fell backwards in his arms, forcing him to fully support her so she didn't topple to the floor. Her laugh gave him such pleasure and he relished it. His face softened and his eyelids drooped half way closed as he watched her with a mix of contentment and devotion. He inhaled deeply taking in her lovely scent as he gazed down at her.

She straightened back up on her feet and looked him in the eyes. "The moon and the stars are some of my favorite things."

He smiled widely at that nugget of information. "And the sun?" he asked. "Do the Fae not love to bask in the sun?"

She scoffed. "I love the sun as much as the next person. But you speak of the Sky Fae. I had never seen the moon and stars before I came here. I was so used to the sun in the Fae realm that I was blind in the darkness, but my sight is improving with each passing night as I gaze to the jewels of the sky." She closed her eyes and smiled. "I imagine that amidst one of those jewels there is a girl like me, peering back, wondering what lies in the beauty beyond." Her face lifted and she looked up at her star ceiling as her voice turned dreamy. "I fell in love with the stars."

She looked back to him and they both fell silent for a moment. His hands moved to the small of her back as he held her.

"Your eyes remind me of the stars," he whispered. "And yet they somehow put the beauty of even the stars to shame." The corner of his mouth rose as his eyes swept her face. Her imagination was beautiful but he doubted there was any in the universe like her.

She smiled and her gaze shyly fell to his collar, focusing on his tattoo.

"Sierra," he said putting two fingers under her chin and lifting her gaze to his. His eyes full of tenderness, he began to speak. "It is time we make a decision."

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Thanks for your feedback!


	5. Chapter 5

**BETA:** Thank you suzymeinen! She also suggests readers should not have drinks near electronics during this chapter.

A/N: Sorry it's been so long. I hope you enjoy what I have shared with you. I won't make you wait near as long for the next update and I have loved reading all your feedback on this story. You have spoken and I have answered. At last... Walk With Me Chapter 5...

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Godric followed Sierra through the threshold of the subterranean level of his compound. He looked at her bare feet as she treaded across the white marble floor, a stark contrast to the soil and soft grass that she was used to. He found that for the first time in centuries, an anxious feeling crept into him, as if a plagued swarm of butterflies were feasting on the flesh inside his stomach. He wanted to please this girl who had swept her way into his life, and he wanted her to be comfortable and content with her new living arrangements. It would be a drastic lifestyle change for her if she made the decision he hoped she would.

He stood in the doorway watching her as she tentatively walked deeper into the room, her mouth agape in awe. He was vaguely aware of a distant storm that he knew she could not hear. "This is where you live?" she marveled as she took in her surroundings.

His intense eyes followed hers to an Egyptian mask hanging on the wall. The opulent item was priceless and probably belonged in a museum. "This is one of many places I go to rest for the day."

She looked at him, an expression of electrified wonderment. "You have other such homes?"

He smirked, the corner of his mouth rising with a simpering visage. "When you have lived as long as I have you acquire various material items." He took a step towards her, laying her bag of meager belongings on the table by the door. "But they are just things, superficial tokens and trinkets. I have learned in my many years that these…" he waved his hand coolly. "These things are not what it is important in life." His eyes came to rest upon her, amplifying the hidden meaning behind his words.

"I wish to know more about you. I want to know everything," she said with genuine regard.

"I'm afraid it would take many lifetimes to learn everything about me, min hjarta. I too wish to know more about you."

She looked at him quizzically, her eyes full of contemplation. "Min hjarta, what does it mean?"

"I apologize. I'm afraid I have a bad habit of blending languages together," he explained, his accent sounding even more exotic than usual. He put his hand on his chin in thought. Godric mused at just how many languages he had been exposed to and spoken over his lifetime and the vast measure of it astounded even him. "Min hjarta comes from the Old Norse tongue, Eric's native language. I spoke it for many centuries after I turned him."

"Eric?"

He chuckled. "Come, min hjarta," he coaxed reaching for her. "Sit with me. I will explain the meaning to you and I will tell you about my son."

Thus, they settled on the couch and talked for hours. He told her all about her future brother Eric, some of their adventures together, even the questionable ones. He told her how min hjarta roughly translated to my heart. He called her that because of the maker call she evoked in his heart and how through it she had made him feel alive again, how before he laid eyes on her his heart had been frozen and dead.

She told him about her friends Pearl and Mickey and how she was on a quest to learn more about humans so she could survive in this world among them. She explained to him that her mother was human and died when she was born and how her fae father had learned of her circumstance and crossed the portal to Earth to rescue her. She told him of the fond memories she had as a young child with her father. She was so young she couldn't remember many, but she remembered how father would bring her candies and read her stories before bed. Once he took her on a picnic to the silver lake in the prairie, and they caught butterflies with nets and ate a human delicacy called chocolate pie. He had gotten the ingredients on an excursion when he went to Earth. She got very sick afterwards and wasn't allowed to eat human food anymore.

Without going into too much detail, she told him of her struggles in the following years among the village.

"A full-blooded fairy reaches adulthood in two weeks. After that, they usually move into their own den and start their own family. But it had been many years, and I was still a child. There was a meeting among the elders, a legal hearing, and my father argued with the village leaders. I remember he was so angry. He told them that I was his daughter, and he would continue to raise me even if it took a hundred years for me to reach maturity."

Godric stared at her, unmoving and expressionless. This was the moment he had both dreaded and hoped for since he first realized she had been through an unspeakable trauma. As if to intensify the moment, a torrential downpour sounded outside. It was accented by crackling thunder that illuminated the hallway with flashes of white light from the open door at the top of the stairs. He was grateful that she was in the safety of his compound rather than the drafty interior of her dwelling.

The moment had come and he had hoped that she would confide in him. He needed to know the struggles his future progeny had faced so he could better understand her and help her overcome them. Shedding one's mortal plights was one of the first steps on the journey of immortality, an important step that he himself had been denied. Raw memories of slavery and injustice plagued him in his firsts few centuries until they eventually became distant memories. He dreaded this moment though because he knew how much it would make his blood boil, how her words had the potential of bringing 'Death' himself to the surface. He absentmindedly held her hand and rubbed his thumb over the back of it trying to soothe her.

She looked up at him as another crack of thunder echoed around them like a beating drum. It would seem even the heavens themselves grumbled in protest at what she was about to reveal. "But he was an important man you see. He represented our village on the Earth Fae Council and he was often sent to this realm for work. It required him to travel a great deal and the elders decided I had interfered with his duties enough already. It was decided that if he disobeyed their ruling then he would receive a stern punishment, perhaps even banishment. I was eight years old, and I didn't really see my father much after that. The elders made sure he was always traveling."

He looked down at her, his face brightly illuminated for one fleeting second from the rage of nature above, lighting up his already pale face and amplifying the severity that was already present in his grey-blue eyes.

"He tried to…"

"He should have tried harder," Godric said through clenched teeth, his intense expression overpowering every inch of the room making the air thick and heavy. "If it were me, I would have ripped the village apart to save my child. Your father is as guilty as the leaders who made the decisions."

"Perhaps, but he does not bare all the blame. I grew slowly; I learned slowly, everything about me is slow. I didn't even read until I was four."

He was a bit taken aback. "You could read when you were four?"

She nodded. "I practiced and practiced when no one was around because I wanted to prove I was not a half-wit."

His brow furrowed angrily. "You Sierra, are no half-wit. You are not slow. Reading at four years old is an amazing accomplishment that very few could claim."

She looked away in confusion and he quickly put his hand on her chin, forcing her to look him in the eyes. "You are not slow. I have much to learn about you, but one thing is certain, you have a great deal of genius buried within that fascinating mind." He realized his min hjarta had a very low opinion of herself, the result of an entire childhood of ridicule and abuse. He would invest a great amount of time helping her heal from the suffering that she had endured. This was a drastic contrast to his other child who had self-esteem in spades. He often had to humble the Viking in his early years when his ego became too inflated.

Her big eyes stared up at him with a glimmer of hope. Was it the first time someone had ever told her she was intelligent? The first time someone had ever paid her a compliment? "Soon min hjarta, your mortal life will be a distant memory. If you choose you will be born again to a life beyond your imaginings. I will never abandon or forsake you. Remember this moment; for this is the moment I pledge to you my eternal commitment." He dared to move closer to her and put his arms around her. He slid her closer until she was against him and their lips nearly touched as his face hovered above hers. His chilly breath brushed her lips as he purred. "Walk this journey with me, Sierra. Say you will be mine." His hand rose to tangle in her hair. "I want you, min hjarta. I want you to be mine. I can't let you go now."

His whispers were almost desperate, and he could hear the longing in his own words. She lit a burning flame in him, a flame he knew wasn't something a maker was supposed to feel for his future progeny. These sort of emotions at such a fragile time were dangerous, and yet, he could not stop himself as he tightened his hold on her.

His lips drifted to her ear and softly brushed her lobe as he whispered. "Tell me you will be mine, Sierra." He closed his eyes when the seductive tone in his voice reached his own ears. He was becoming lost in her and he vaguely realized he teetered on the precipice of oblivion now. That deep knowledge within him warned him to withdrawl, but he shut it away as he inhaled the scent of her neck, the blood pumping through the tender veins like a siren's song. His fangs ached with wanting as his face moved closer. She trusted him fully now as she relaxed in his arms, relaxed in the feel of his embrace like a lamb content in the embrace of a deadly predator. Half opened eyes roved over her neck with dreamy anticipation. The voice within him grew louder in warning. His eyes closed tightly as he pierced his fangs into his tongue to get a grasp on himself.

He moved away, yet kept his arms around her. Looking down at her he smelled the aroma of her tears before he saw them. "Min hjarta?" He said sobering. "I apologize. It was not my intention to make you weep."

She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand. "No it is not that. It is just… just that your words have truly touched me." She sniffed. "No one has ever spoken to me with such conviction nor held me in such esteem."

"I know you desire time to make your decision," he said softly, trying to block the knowledge that she nearly drove him feral with a maddening desire to make her his. "And you wish to spend time with me before you decide to take the next step, but perhaps you would be open to something that will possibly help you stave off your affliction."

"What do you suggest?"

He took an uncertain breath. "Among my kind…" he chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment. "My child, I wish to… that is I would be honored if you would accept my offer to blood bond with me." It was a perfectly normal and natural progression between progeny and maker in their situation he told himself. He ignored the churning need to have the taste of her blood on his lips as his flowed through her veins and he became a part of her.

"Blood bond?" He saw the confusion in her eyes and tried to explain.

"Tell me min hjarta, you said your kin taught you in a school. What did they teach you?"

She bit her bottom lip as she thought. "Well they taught me horticulture mostly, how to grow things. And they taught me how to use my magic. I also learned math, reading, and writing. There was a class on fairy history and one about the other fairy cultures, such as the Sky Fae, Water Fae, and Fire Fae."

His eyebrows rose. "Perhaps there are things you can teach me my child."

She smiled. "I also had lessons on Werewolves, witches, shapeshifters, vampires, and many other magic cultures and creatures."

"And what did they teach you of vampires?"

"Mostly how dangerous they are. I learned a lot in history class how vampires hunted my people and drove them from Earth after we lost the war."

Given the turbulent relationship between the fae and vampires in the nights of old, he was not at all surprised they had painted his kind as the villains. "It would seem that your history lessons were rather distorted. Though I was a newly turned vampire, I recall the war and the years preceding it." He ran his hand through her hair. "It is true, some vampires exploited fairies, however, it was not as black and white as it appears you were told."

"Vampires didn't steal fairy younglings and make them blood slaves? They didn't attack every fairy they encountered on the road?"

He bellowed with loud laughter that made her laugh too even though she knew not what he found so funny. It felt good to laugh so fully, it had been so long for him. "Most experienced fairies have the ability to kill a vampire, unless the vampire is very old." He casually gestured to himself with a streak of arrogance that he rarely showed. "They lived in large villages with silver imbued stone walls. I, on more than one occasion, passed a fairy on the streets of a human town; they were either masking their scent or fouled it with some sort of disgusting plant they grew."

"Garlic coral, the water fae grow it because many of them can't mask their scent."

"Of course, garlic coral." He grinned, his fangs all showing. "But when I passed them I knew what they were, and I had no quarrel with them. I even conducted business with fairies occasionally, as did many vampires. Some of them were quite adept at acquiring things and curing menacing curses from witches and necromancers."

"So you have never killed a fairy?" She asked, her eyes big. "Never killed them for their blood?"

He looked at her and closed his mouth while he thought carefully how to respond. "Min hjarta, you must know I have killed many of all kinds. Sometimes they deserved it and sometimes they did not. I have survived to my third millennium, one of the ten eldest vampires to walk the Earth. There is not much that I have not done or experienced. I have committed terrible deeds in my past, some of them I regret and some I do not."

Her voice became quiet. "How do you get past it when you do something you regret?"

"It is not always easy." He looked at the wall in distant thought. "There have been times my actions have haunted me for many years and before Eric I had no close blood kin. I was alone." He looked back to her and circled his arms around her. "Blood kin are vital. You will be coming into this world with a maker who cares a great deal about you. And though Eric is brash at times, as you will soon learn, I know my child as well as he knows himself. He will cherish you."

She hesitated before speaking and he already knew what she was going to ask. "What happened to your maker?"

"He met the true death when I was less than a century old," he responded, expertly masking the resentment in his voice.

"That's so tragic."

He laughed sarcastically. "No, min hjarta. My maker lived outside of vampire society and didn't follow the code. He was an outlaw in the vast outlaw lands of an untamed world, and he relished twisting me into a monster. The night of his death was the most fortunate night of my life. When he died, I lived alone for a very long time like a wildling. Eventually, I came across a vampire who introduced himself as my maker's brother." He chuckled under his breath. "I immediately tried to kill him, but he was too strong. As fate would have it, he was no fan of my maker. I traveled with him to the barbaric Gaelic lands far to the west where I joined his nest for a long time. It was there I helped him teach his young progeny Emre and min farbrodir, min uncle…" he nonchalantly corrected, "taught me about the code and of my own kind." Godric's accent was thick as he recounted the distant memory. "When the first sparks of Rome fanned the flames of its infant civilization we journeyed there to help establish one of the first orders of our society. If my maker had not met his true death I would have never became what I am today."

"The code; that's vampire law."

"Very good, my child. I am surprised the fae taught you such things," he looked at her proudly. "You already know more than I knew at your age. And I will teach you so much more and prepare you for immortality like no other has been. You will be perfect."

"Well," she said embarrassed. "I know it is a word for vampire law, but I know not what the laws are."

"You will," he grinned. "So they taught you the meaning of the code. I am surprised they did not teach you about the exchanging of blood—blood bonding. Though it is sacred and rare it is no secret among the supernatural community."

"Oh, yes! I know about blood exchanges, but is that not so you can control the one you exchange with and make them your slave? That does not sound appealing."

He frowned. "No," he said slowly, his voice laced with disgust at what the fae had told her. "Blood bonding has nothing to do with control and everything to do with protection, trust, and union." He sat silently for a moment in thought. Though he knew the fae taught her many inconsistencies about vampires and their history he realized he was faced with a great task reversing many years of misinformation. "If a vampire wanted a slave, unless he was very young and foolish, the last thing he would do is blood bond and make himself so vulnerable. A blood bond connects you to another person in a way that words cannot describe. The vampire is literally giving part of themselves to their bonded, to hurt their bonded is to hurt themselves."

Her face was flushed and she looked down at her hands as she fidgeted with the hem of her dress. "I'm sorry. I did not mean to imply…"

He leaned forward and raised her chin so their gazes met. He stared deeply into her eyes. "You have done nothing wrong, Sierra. But the fae have misinformed you regarding this. Come here, min hjarta." He pulled her into his lap until her head rested on his shoulder and he wrapped his arms protectively around her.

His eyes drooped half way closed in contentment when he felt her fingertips brushing his skin as she played with the Section Black necklace that hung around his neck.

"If we blood bonded you would be able to feel my emotions and I yours. We would know if the other person is near or far and even when they are approaching. Because the magic resides in the blood of the vampire and my blood would be inside you, I could literally track you to the exact spot you stand, no matter where you are on Earth. It would allow me to find you if you were ever in trouble or needed me and it works the other way around once you are turned, if you so choose."

"So if you needed me I could find you anywhere?"

"Yes, once you're turned" he nodded. "I can even call my child through the blood and you would be able to find my exact location. There are also other effects the blood has." He looked over to the door where he could hear Twitch breathing in the shadows. "There are certain traits that are stronger in vampires that may… may stimulate certain aspects of your character to some extent."

"What do you mean?"

"Such as, vampires…" He looked down at her, feeling a little awkward at verbally breaking the ice on this subject because he was uncertain what her reaction would be. "Vampires have a tendency to have high libidos," he quickly went on to the next point. "Though you may not know it from their expression they are also extremely emotional underneath, it's why we spend so much time and effort learning to mask our emotions. If we exchanged blood, those things would be heightened in you, which is a good thing because it's a minor version of what you will feel when you're turned. It will help prepare you to deal with the strong feelings you will have." He cleared his throat. "It will make you crave sex more often than you may usually, which I will explain to you at a later date when you are ready, and the emotional aspect…" he stopped talking and mentally cursed himself for explaining it so insufficiently. He had never been timid talking about sex before, but it had been over a hundred years thanks to that damn curse and she was, well she was Sierra. Innocently pure and probably the most enticing woman he has ever hungered for.

Her eyebrow was raised as she looked up at him, her face dangerously close to his. "I may have lived in the wilds since the age of twelve," she whispered, "but I know what sex is. The meaning is not foreign to me."

Godric opened his mouth to speak but was saved when the phone started vibrating. "That would be Eric," he said reaching under her and into his pocket.

"So you have captured her have you?" Eric immediately said without greeting.

"I would not describe it in that manner, but yes she is here with me." He ran his hand through Sierra's hair as she looked at him curiously.

"Is she naked now? Because you're so horny even Pam is complaining."

Godric growled half-heartedly and an evil idea came to him as his fangs glowed in the distant flashes of lightening. "She would have been had you not interrupted us."

Eric laughed. "May I speak to her?"

"Why?" Godric asked suspiciously, narrowing his eyes.

"Because I would like to say hello to my new little sister. There is nothing insidious about it," he drawled.

Godric looked at Sierra as he began speaking to Eric in Old Norse. "Listen to my words well. She is young and innocent."

"Mmmm," Eric responded.

"Be wary, my child," he said sharply, "if you displease me regarding this there will be consequences."

Eric laughed nervously. "Of course."

Satisfied, Godric handed the phone to Sierra who pressed it to her ear. He immediately knew Eric was up to no good when he couldn't hear the Viking speaking on the other end. Eric had intentionally lowered his voice.

"Hello," Sierra said. "Yes," she laughed. "I would be honored to meet you as well… um, Eric."

She looked over at Godric and smiled, before her smile faded in confusion and she looked down at her dress. "A white dress, why do you ask?"

Godric rolled his eyes and leaned forward to retrieve the phone but was evaded by Sierra who slightly turned away.

"You confuse me so. Why would I take it off?" she went on. "Ah." "Underneath, why would I wear…" She stopped talking and listened.

"Godric has a raging hard on?" She said looking at Godric with concern. She studied his face curiously when she noticed his look of horror. "I do not understand."

Godric quickly retrieved the phone and put it to his ear."… and he will give you a delicious cream in return," Eric said in a sultry voice managing to sound both seductive and innocent.

"Eric," the older ancient deadpanned.

"Oh, master. You're back. I was just telling my sister…"

"I know what you were telling her and I don't think exploiting her innocence is wise. Remember what I said about consequences?"

"I guess you have a reason to come visit me sooner rather than later. Or shall I come there?"

Godric sighed. His ancient child was a bit old to misbehave just to see him. "It seems there are a few lessons I have yet to teach you."

He finished the conversation and ended it before leaning back on the couch and putting his hands on his face in exasperation.

"I want to fuck you right now," Sierra said scooting closer to him and putting her hand on his knee.

Godric froze before looking at her in shock. "What did you just say?"

"Eric said we should fuck because you suffer from a raging hard on and you would resist but I should not take no for an answer. He said he could feel it over the bond even now."

Godric closed his eyes and shook his head, a forced smile on his face. "Sierra," he said. "Do you even know the meaning of the words you speak?"

She shook her head and smiled. "I do not know what this fucking is, nor what a raging hard on is. But if it will help you I will fuck you this very moment unless of course you do not want to fuck me. If that is the case, I understand, but I assure you I can learn."

Godric laughed nervously and took her hand. "Min hjarta, of course I want… I mean to say… " he sighed then growled. "Eric would never miss an opportunity to embarrass me."

She looked at him with pity. "Your affliction should not shame you. Perhaps I can examine your raging hard on and heal it. I am quite adept in the art of healing. Perhaps I can rub a salve to the ailing area or we can try the fucking that Eric suggested or perhaps both."

He looked back to her and was sure if vampires could get red faced from blushing his face would be redder than blood. He could feel Eric guffawing through the bond and delighting in his maker's embarrassment. "Eric is being crude. He speaks of sex, coupling intimately," he said quickly. "And when he says raging hard on, well he is referring to my…" He sighed awkwardly. "He is referring to my aroused cock… my penis," he cringed speaking such vulgarities in front of her.

Her eyes darted to the bulge between his legs and he stopped himself from fidgeting as he lay open and vulnerable to her. It was too late to hide it now and a dark thrill ran through him as she was no doubt discovering how attracted to her he was. And he, well he was confronted with that fact head on too and now there could be no more denial. She exhaled quickly and said in a high pitched voice. "Oh." Her face flushed pink and she averted her eyes as she cleared her throat. "I have not heard these things referred to with such colorful words."

They sat silent for a few moments, both of them staring forward with their hands folded in their laps, the awkwardness tangible in the air. He thought he heard a snicker come from the small shadow down the hall that had been eaves dropping on their entire conversation.

Finally she spoke. "I do not understand why the subject is so embarrassing for you." She looked over at him and he was already staring back, blank faced with lips slightly parted. "Are vampires ashamed of such subjects?"

A relieved chuckle escaped him. "Of course not. I was only treading lightly because I did not realize…" His eyes swept over her with amazement. "I did not realize you would be so relaxed regarding the topic. Or that you would even know what sex is. You seemed embarrassed."

"I was embarrassed that I did not know the meaning of Eric's words."

He nodded in understanding. "I have learned that females, especially mortal ones tend to be quite ashamed of their sexuality and I assumed you were the same. I wanted to tread lightly on what I thought would be a touchy subject for you."

She laughed. "Ashamed? Truly?"

He smiled. "Truly." He hoped that she would not find his kind depraved at the vast extent to which sex touched nearly every aspect of a vampires life, right down to feeding, so he was relieved to discover that the fae did not find the subject taboo as humans did.

"I have never heard of someone being ashamed of sex. And though I have never experienced it myself I have often dreamed of it with a male."

Godric shifted uncomfortably. What male had she dreamed of sex with? He felt his lip curl up and tried to prevent the low growl that escaped his throat but it was too late. "Who is this male?" He growled irritably before he could stop the words from spilling out.

She looked over at him a little taken aback by his tone. "He is a male I first saw six months ago. He came and visited me in the park often and though we did not talk I have felt a deep connection to him since I first laid eyes on him."

Godric looked away as he swam in an emotional torrent of jealously and possessiveness, unable to think clearly. "So there was not much talking was there?" He said in a low voice and cursed himself for not keeping tight control of his feelings. Though he had felt the maker call for her he had no claim on her heart. He himself had been rationalizing internally all night how such a relationship was dangerous for her well being given what he thought was her innocent nature on the subject.

"Godric?" She said, her voice seemed so far away as he tried to beat back the noxious feeling of disappointment. He had not realized just how much he had longed to possess her in every way. "You look ill."

He stood up, his fangs aching as badly as his heart. He faced away from her to hide his face. "I am fine, min hjarta. Please forgive me."

She stood and approached him. She spoke to his back. "I should not have told you how I have been watching you from a distance for six months. I knew it was wrong but I could not help myself. I am the one who is in need of forgiveness. And… and please f… forgive me for having those dreams of y… you." He closed his eyes in icy realization. She had been talking of him and he had acted like a baby vampire. He smelled her tears. "I will go."

He quickly turned and caught the tail-end of a flash as she teleported away and out of his compound.

"Fool!" He berated himself and zipped up the stairs, his instincts to protect her screaming at him to go after her. He knew where she had gone and it would take him several minutes to get there. And by the gods, if his min hjarta dreamed of him he would make her dreams come true.

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Feedback is always appreciated and welcome so if you like this story I'd love to hear from you.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** I know it's been awhile and I really have no excuse other than life. But I hope to start giving you guys regular updates and I already have the next chapter almost ready. I appreciate the followers of this story so much for coming back and picking it up after waiting so long. Your enthusiasm helps drive this story on!

A special thank you to suzymienen for beta reading this chapter.

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Godric tightened his hold on the frail body in his arms. He felt a protective nature flood through him that was so great it made him edgy and on the brink of becoming overwhelmed with emotions. But he kept his composure with ancient skill. It fell to him to be the strong one and he knew she would need that strength and guidance when she finally awoke. He squeezed his eyes shut and prayed to any God that would still hear him to let his new progeny awake reborn. He prayed to them, begged them, reasoned with them and pleaded with them only soon to find himself threatening to destroy them all if they let her die. His whispers were calm, quiet, and dark which made them all the more deadly sounding. He felt the weight of the dirt pushing on his arm that lay protectively over her as they curled together, swallowed deep in the cool Earth.

His blood told him the sun had just set, marking the beginning of the second night, and yet he had not fallen into his day-rest for one minute. It had been two full days and one full night, and now with the second night looming, the effects of no sleep were weighing heavily on him, making him sick and weary, but it was nothing compared to her. She was so weak. Never had he turned a progeny in such a weakened state as she was when he had found her after she fled his compound two nights before. He had been fortunate enough to strengthen both Eric and Nora with ample amounts of his blood before their transition, but Sierra had the faintest spark of life left in her. He was barely able to coax her to swallow a few drops of his sacred blood to create the first blood-bond and fuel the first flame of immortality.

After she teleported away, he had returned to the park in search of her. There he had frantically searched all night only to find her at the edge of his property when he returned to his compound minutes before dawn. She had laid there for half the night, and when he found her she was drenched and nearly drowned from the torrential storm. She had already been weak and must have fallen unconscious when she attempted to teleport.

Deep in their grave, he nuzzled his face in her hair and inhaled her scent almost desperately as he quietly muttered a prayer in a long dead language to a long dead God, his heavily accented voice growing louder and louder with every word that passed his lips.

He had carved out a hollow around their faces, and he looked at her as she lay as still as death. Her face looked so peaceful, an austere contrast to her shock filled eyes and her weak attempts to push him away when he drained her. He felt a bolt of fear. He wondered if she would resent him when she woke, or worse yet, utterly despise him. He shifted uncomfortably beside her. She still had yet to make a decision and still had not accepted his offer of immortal life. But when the time came, he found he could not let her fade away into that long night, vanquished from the Earth like every a living thing before her. He had been selfish, and he could not blame it on instinct alone. He was well aware of what he was doing as he drained her of her blood. And oh by the Gods, it had been the most savory blood that had ever graced his lips and tongue. Even when he staggered around her drunkenly from her fairy blood, tripping over rocks and roots, the night sky dizzily spinning around him, screaming at her lifeless body that she was his, even then he had known what he was doing.

So crazed and drunk on her blood he had become, and yet, he still knew what he was doing. But in his craze he nearly forgot the sun was about to crest the horizon in all its hideous glory. Once the realization hit him he gathered her in his arms, all logic stripped from his mind. "Do not worry, min hjarta, we will stay ahead of the sun," he told her as she lay limp in his arms.

He moved roughly westward, clutching her to his chest with a pre-dawn glow always at his back. At that point, at that moment, Godric was wholly devoid of reason. Her blood leaped inside him, churning in his ears. He had a vague knowledge rattling deep in his mind just how fast her blood had made his already exceptional speed. In order to shield her from the elements, he moved her to his back so he took the full brunt of what he knew was to come at such a maddening velocity, an act of pure makoral instinct. He had never moved so fast in his immortal life as he had that breaking dawn, and he could feel the bitter sting of 800 mile an hour winds tearing his skin from his bones as his body simultaneously healed itself. His blood-shot eyes were so deranged, his face so savage, his expression that of a berserking maniac that even the most ferocious monster would flee had they caught a glimpse of the insanity that thundered across the terrain.

Godric roared with fangs bared and dashed west in a panic as the fiery behemoth snarled just behind the horizon, burning furiously, racing after him, never relenting in its pursuit to reign it's apocalyptic cheer upon him. He approached an outcropping of rocks in the distance around a valley which carved out a dimple in the Earth. With only seconds to spare, he managed to drag them into a haphazardly dug grave to safety, screaming, grunting, groaning, and even crying blood-red tears with every desperate swipe of the ground.

So here they were in the grave of all graves. Surreal as it was.

He supposed they were at the edge of the Rocky Mountains, and for the first time in a very long time he realized there were two entire continents he had barely explored. He had never been to this place. In fact, he had only spent about fifty years in the new world and most of that time had been spent in Dallas with a few excursions to neighboring courts. This realization was sobering as there are so few firsts in an immortal's life. He planned to explore this place with his new progeny in tow. The Rocky Mountains were secluded and would be an ideal place to spend the first few nights with Sierra, getting to know her and instructing her in the ways of a vampire before moving on to Shreveport. That is if she didn't hate him...

She shifted beside him, the quietest of noises coming from her mouth. "G..G..Godr?"

"Shhh," he squeezed her closer to him, wrapping his arms tighter around her. "You are safe, min hjarta."

She calmed and fell back into her death sleep, unaware of her circumstance.

He closed his eyes hard in thanks and heaved a big sigh. It was a good sign she would survive the transition, the best he could hope for. Yes, his progeny would conquer death and rebirth. He could not accept any other fate and he pushed all other dire and cold thought from his mind before slipping into a fitful down-time.

Imagine an everlasting whirlwind of introspection caused from extreme intelligence that bombards one's mind in never-ending thoughts, emotions, and strategy. This is what it is to have a vampire's mind, and the older one got the more intense it could be. Downtime is an escape from that tornado of the mind. But for Godric, during those worrisome days and nights, downtime was no escape, and he refused to leave his new child vulnerable by succumbing to day-rest. So as it was, Godric endured terrible waking nightmares as he clutched Sierra possessively.

When dawn broke on the third day he wondered if he was on the verge of bleeding out, an effect from fighting the pull of the sun. He felt the wetness on his ears and his own blood pooling under his head. He took solace in the knowledge that when the sun set he would emerge into a promising new chapter of his life with Sierra.

The ferocity of the maker call had eased in his heart as he had now fulfilled destiny. But the experience was no less magnificent because the ardent call had been replaced by something much more profound: the wild instinct of a new maker in all it's barbarity and madness. And madness it was, for she was now his, and Godric would destroy the Earth to protect his child.

He smoothed her hair off her shoulders and nestled his face against her throat, breathing her scent for hours as he blanketed himself over her so closely they practically melded into one. Eventually, he shivered and his muscles stiffened as his fangs protruded down and sank into her flesh, a soothing purr erupting from him, vibrating the earthy pocket of air around their faces. His eyelids fluttered and his entire body stretched in pleasure as he tasted her exquisite blood explode across his tongue. He didn't drink what little blood she had left though. That was not his intention. He was merely allowing his instincts to take over as he claimed her with his fangs. There was no guilt that she was still in her death sleep, no questions if he should or not. It simply was what it was, and she was his. He was being a possessive maker, and he knew with a dark and secret thrill that she would feel the tingle of his bite when she awoke. She would know what he had done. She would realize that she was his. He growled a velvety low-pitched growl against her skin as his fangs sank deeper in her throat. It comforted him, and he needed comfort during such a stressful time.

* * *

The eldest Earth Fairy and Prince of the Fire Fae stood together at the edge of a cliff and looked out over the world that had been their domain for over two millennia. Their faces were bleak as they surveyed a dying and sick land. Condé the Fire Prince observed the distant stands of deadwood that had once been a vast rainforest harboring all manner of exotic life. He looked at his companion, who stared in the opposite direction to the withered grasslands, bygone remnants that were now nothing more than rocky terrain over a dust-swept expanse.

"Garrett?"

"There," the old Earth Fairy pointed across the dying stretch of land at a small figure who stumbled against swirling dust cyclones, dragging herself against brutal gales. "The half-blood child survives, among the stony crags where the cherry and dogwoods used to bloom."

Condé turned to catch a glimpse. "It's not right. The cruelty she has endured."

"We all agreed," Garrett said unapologetically.

"I know, but were the beatings necessary?"

"Yes."

"And was it necessary to force her to live in the wilds?"

"Yes."

"There were other ways we could have handled it," Condé challenged.

The old Earthie snorted with annoyance. "Listen, Condé, soon even the Earth Fae will not be able to provide enough food for our own villages, let alone the rest of the four kingdoms. This place is dying." He swept his arm out in front of him. "Look at the poison before you. Look at the withering land. We were never meant to abandon Earth."

"Your clan has been saying that for two millennia."

Garrett huffed. "And we were right were we not?"

"I suppose your thirst for Earth will be quenched soon enough."

"Perhaps," Garrett sighed and looked at the half-blood in the distance as she ducked into a ravine. "Everything she has endured is to prepare her for the day she returns to Earth."

"Yes I know. But isn't this pointless preparation for naught? Her fate, after all, is to be ripped apart by the dark ones. And I'm not sure your idea to use her as an instrument to ignite war is wise."

Garrett interrupted. "It's a necessary evil. The death of that little girl will unite our people like never before. Our numbers may have dwindled, but the vampires are no match for the wrath of the four kingdoms when all of Faedom discover," his voice became sarcastic, "a cherished youngling of the Earth People has been butchered by our immortal enemies."

"How long will you leave her in the wilds?"

"Four years and we already have the perfect place to discard her in Earth Realm. Right on Death's doorstep."

"My Gods, the boy Death? He's a murdering beast that even the Fire Fae won't cross for fear of the carnage he would reap. She won't survive one night in his territory."

"She must survive long enough to cross his path. Hopefully these trials will prepare her to survive the lessor monsters of Earth long enough for Death to catch wind of her scent," he paused silently for a moment. "I wish I could say I want her death to be swift and merciful, but in truth, a bloodbath is a more ideal alternative, and Death is a reliable choice for such a task."

"Every fairy will be enraged when word of a younglings death at a vampire's hand spreads across the realm."

Sierra laid on her back, her head pillowed in the soft grass and watched the shooting stars streak across the night sky of her dreamscape. She was unaware of the scene that had just played out in the murky red waters of the memory pool only feet away from her.

She wasn't exactly sure how long she had been in her safe haven, but it felt like months and the memory of how she had come to be here had turned fuzzy and vague. She couldn't seem to wake up, no matter how hard she tried, and her body, even in this place, felt weak and heavy.

The memory pool was of no use, only showing her confusing scenes that made no sense. Even the waters had turned from blue to red.

"Could I have been any more dim-witted?" She mumbled to herself, trying to push her embarrassment away. She had acted like such a childish fool in front of Godric. She tried to wish it never happened, but she knew no matter how hard she wished, she had already made a fool of herself. She had all but professed her most secret of secrets. She sighed frustrated. "Why did you tell him you _dreamed_ about him?" She berated herself. "He wants to be your maker, not your suitor!" His displeased posture when she started telling him of her dream made that all too clear.

At least she had this place where she could escape the real world and all it's complexities and problems. She rolled over on her side and closed her eyes as she thought about what she had learned from Godric and Dr. Ludwig. She was dying. She would soon be dead from iron poisoning, and her only hope was to accept Godric's offer to become his progeny vampire. She didn't want to die, but to become a vampire would mean breaking the highest laws of her kin. It was forbidden to even consort with vampires, let alone become one.

"You are not a fairy anymore," she whispered hatefully.

They didn't want her, so why should she even care what they thought? She would most likely never see another fairy again. Sierra's human mother had died when she was born and her father, desperate to be rid of her, had disappeared when she was eight years old, never to be in her life again. She had no family, and this ancient vampire she had grown fond of offered her something she had not known in a long time. He took more interest in her than anyone ever had. And though his interest was merely of one who followed the call of the maker, it was still more than she had ever dared to wish.

She used to dream her kin came through the portal and confessed they had made a terrible mistake, begging her to return. In these dreams she would laugh and tell them to go smite themselves, for she was prosperous in the Earth world and had made many friends such as Pearl and Mickey, and even had a vampire lover. Though at the time Godric had been nothing more than a mysterious figure she spied on from the shadows, it didn't matter because it was her fantasy, and she could construct it as she wished.

She tried to sit up, but her body groaned in protest. Even in her dreams her iron poisoning must be debilitating her. She felt something invisible and powerful coil around her body, and it comforted her. It soothed her and the pain ebbed away. "G...G...Godr?" She mumbled in confusion. Somehow she knew he was near in the waking world as she struggled to return to reality. The blanket of comfort engulfed her more, and she settled back on the soft ground of her dreamy cove and watched the fireflies dance above her.

* * *

Five days. Five days and five nights and Godric began to lose hope as he cradled Sierra in their Earthen tomb. Over and over he found himself begin to mourn, desperate to let his feelings pour from him and weep as he had never wept before, but his heavy heart would hitch in his chest and he would stop himself. He refused to mourn her, refused to let the floodgate of emotions loose for fear it would destroy him. He still felt the maker connection to her, no matter how weak and precarious it may be, and if he felt that, then her true death was still kept at bay. Never had he heard of a progeny who laid in their birthing grave for more than three days and three nights and survived. But she was now of his blood, born of his maker call, and she had all the ancient strength it gave her.

He began to whisper in her ear, his accent thick and slow. "I do not know why I feel as I do. It is different with each child, I know, but I do not think I can survive without you, min hjarta. Sierra, my child, you must come back to me. You must fight as I fight for you now." He felt the weakness in his very bones, the weakness from so much blood loss, and he wasn't sure he would have the strength to drag himself from the grave if they laid there much longer. "As long as your spark of life still burns, no matter how small, I vow I will not leave you."

He had even lost track of Eric who had been flooding him with strength over the bond two nights before. The blood fever had become so overwhelming he could no longer feel his other child, and it left him even more empty and lonely than he had felt the last hundred years he was cursed. It wasn't just strength he had felt from Eric, he also felt remorse and guilt from his ancient child for the part he had played that led to a premature birthing grave. And right at the end of the last dawn before he lost the connection to Eric, the Viking had fell into a very late day rest sick with worry. Though his child tried to hide it, he felt desperation and fear he didn't know Eric was capable of. It was a sort of urgent distress he knew only came from a progeny that thought his maker was dying.

On the threshold of the sixth night, right as the sun had set, it happened. An earth-shattering explosion enveloped Godric as the eternal bond between him and Sierra erupted to life. A loud breathless gasp let loose from Godric as his body and mind was overpowered with new waves of an unbreakable tie between maker and progeny. He felt her life-force throb within him as she was reborn, the hum almost deafening in his ears. Ripple after ripple, wave after wave, surge after surge a chaotic barrage of confusion, fear, panic and dozens of other emotions blazed to life from his wakening progeny. He knew she was not fully awake yet, a new progeny would not wake with their maker beside them. Only his absence from the grave would trigger her awakening and subsequent dig to the surface, an instinct driving the child towards safety, towards their maker.

His body was stiff, and he groaned when he tried to lift his arms. It was not the worst he had experienced. He was over two millennia old, and he had endured his share of disasters, but his circumstance was one of the more dire he had faced. He knew Sierra would be ravenously hungry when she woke, barely able to think of anything else, and he had very little blood left in his veins to feed her. She would drain what little he had left if he allowed her to feed, and he was too slow and weak to find a meal before she woke. Even if he wasn't, his instincts would never allow him to leave her graveside. It was one of the most cruel predicaments of birthing a new progeny. More than one maker had unwittingly sacrificed both their life and the life of their new progeny. The maker too weak to take them to safety after being drained, and the progeny too fearful to leave their makers side, condemning them both to burn in the sun the following dawn. Most makers had some time to prepare for the awakening before going to the grave with their child, but he had been afforded none, and he was in unfamiliar territory.

His mind searched for an answer as he stretched his muscles, trying to stir them to life so he could dig his way to the surface.

"Maker?"

His eyes widened at the sound of the broken voice from above, muffled by the dirt that separated them. Of course! Eric had come. By the Gods, his Eric had come. He had left Pamela under Thalia's protection and probably been waiting up there for nights for any sign of movement. Godric, with so much blood loss, had failed to feel Eric so near, failed to feel him over the bond for the last two days and nights.

Godric grasped at the roots above him and pulled himself up inch by inch. Long hours passed as he strained to drag himself out. He knew Eric would not intervene. It would be insulting to do so. Godric remained focused and determined, his and Sierra's life depended on it. Finally, after half a night, he broke the surface. And then moments later, he was free. He rolled over on his back, looking up at the night sky, his legs still buried below the knees, his entire body caked with dirt and dried blood.

He slowly looked over, eyelids half open, and saw his Viking kneeling with his eyes cast downward at the dirt spot between them.

"Eric," he whispered and new emotions flooded him. This was the first time he had seen his eldest progeny in decades, the damned curse.

Eric's eyes flicked up and their gaze locked, worried blues to hazy blue-greys. His north-man was still as striking as the day he had turned him. He did look different though, his hair was now cut short, but it suited him. And he was dressed in all black, giving up the fancy suits he was fond of earlier in the century. He had on black leather pants, black military boots, and a black sleeveless shirt. It made him look foreboding. Godric understood why he chose to dress in such a way.

Godric stared at his eldest progeny and struggled to keep his eyes open.

"You look like shit," Eric finally said.

Godric grunted and half smiled.

Eric offered his wrist to his maker. Godric didn't argue and took the gift willingly. He was barely able to drop fang to feed, but soon he felt his body begin to restore itself. No blood was more nourishing to a vampire than that of their own blood-kin, but Eric's blood wouldn't be enough.

"Don't worry. I have more," Eric said reaching for a cooler and pulling it closer with his free hand. He pointed at the hiking backpack beside the cooler. "There's a change of clothes for you both. I'm not sure what size she is. I took one of Pam's dresses. I packed many things I thought you may need. There's some bottled water and soap to wash some of that grime off. You don't want your new progeny smelling your god-awful stench and being greeted by a half-dead maker with a sunken face. She may crawl back in the grave."

Godric bit a little harder and Eric yelped.

He released Eric's wrist and let out a loud breath. The blood was delicious but he wouldn't take more from his child. "That's enough," he said wearily. "Hand me the blood from the cooler."

"What flavor of Tru-Blood do you want?" he said pulling out a bottle with the famous logo and holding it up.

Godric glared at Eric who laughed.

"I'm kidding. I have B Neg and AB Neg."

"Give me the AB."

Eric handed it over and Godric bit into the bag. "It's been a long time since I tasted AB Neg. It's good." He said between swallows.

"It's not easy to find, but I have a supplier in Shreveport. I've been scoring a few bags occasionally."

Godric paused, his fangs still buried in the bag. He looked over at Eric and narrowed his eyes. "You stopped hunting?" He asked surprised.

"You haven't been keeping up. Hunting isn't allowed anymore by order of the authority. The only blood to be had are used-up donors, bagged, or Tru-B."

Godric laughed. "We will see about that."

Eric watched as Godric pulled his legs free from the grave and opened the hiking backpack, retrieving a bottle of water and splashing it over his head. "You plan to challenge them?"

"There are soon to be a lot of changes. But for now my priority is Sierra, who will learn to hunt properly as you did. I will deal with the authority in due time."

Godric lathered the soap in his hands and rubbed it on his face and in his hair before pouring more water over his head. He grabbed another bag of AB Neg and began drinking, moaning slightly when the blood spilled into his mouth.

"My thanks Eric," he said tossing the empty bag in the cooler. "You have proven yourself once again tonight. An everlasting companion I can trust and rely on."

"Will you allow me to stay and witness her rise?"

Godric looked towards a grove of trees not too far away. "Very well, you may watch from a distance. But keep silent and do not make yourself known. She is still much too young to recognize your presence in the air, let alone the bond. Choose a resting place not far from us for your day-rest and at first dark tomorrow begin your journey back to Shreveport."

"Godric," Eric argued. "Must we part so soon? It's been so long and…"

Godric clasped his hand affectionately on Eric's shoulder. "The journey will take a few nights so stop at my compound in Dallas for a rest over and collect Twitch before continuing. Prepare for our arrival in Shreveport. I have been in contact with a Were by the name of Alcide."

"Yes, I've had dealings with the dog a few times."

"His father has a property for sale in town that would serve us well as both our nest and headquarters for my operation. My cousin Thalia has already toured the establishment and deemed it worthy. Make the arrangements before our arrival."

Eric looked at Godric with surprise. "Headquarters? You don't mean to re-establish Section Black in the New World do you?"

"That is precisely what I mean to do. And Thalia will be my second, though it will require her to travel often. She will be joining our nest along with you and Pamela."

"What about her Phoenix?"

"Thalia has a Phoenix?" Godric demanded. "When did she acquire a Phoenix?"

"No, not a Phoenix. Phoenix is the name of her child. She turned him about four months ago when she was touched by the maker call."

"She never mentioned a new progeny to me," Godric said putting his hand on his chin thoughtfully.

"She's very protective after what happened to Singred. She has told no one. The only reason I know is because she disappeared for several weeks and I thought she was in trouble. I hunted her down to find out what happened. She threatened to slit my throat if I told a soul."

"It would seem the fates have given her a second chance," Godric said looking back up at Eric. "Very well, then Phoenix shall join our nest as well. It will be constructive for Sierra to have another young one to train with." He paused. "Yes this could be quite advantageous. All three youngsters will be well instructed."

"Three?"

"Pamela of course."

Eric chuckled and crossed his arms smugly. "Pam is quite self sufficient. She even recently moved into her own house a few months ago."

Before Eric finished the sentence he found himself flat on the ground, his head throbbing. He looked up at Godric, whose fangs were already bared, his eyebrows a deep V, and his fists balled beside him.

"What was that for?" He felt a surge of fury over the bond.

"Have I taught you nothing?" Godric fumed. "Do you not recall you did not leave my side for 300 years! How could you abandon your progeny to fend for herself! She has not even reached her century mark! She is barely out of the grave."

Eric got to his feet quickly. He felt his own anger rising. "Things are different now, Godric." Eric hissed, but then he softened in understanding. He knew the relationship between maker and child was sensitive for Godric. His own maker had abandoned him shortly after his awakening, but not before debasing him in every possible way. Godric was the complete opposite when it came to raising his progenies. He was brutally tough, but frighteningly protective. "I know there are still dangers, but it isn't what it used to be."

"It is more dangerous now than it has ever been. At least when you were young, vampires followed the code. We live in a lawless land lorded over by sharks while the makerless roam in hordes. Every human knows of our existence now and there are factions of them who hunt us."

Eric snorted, unconcerned.

"Do not be so coy, Eric." Godric's voice darkened. "Human's rule the day, and while we are stronger and faster, they are still predators. More dangers lurk now than ever before. Thalia's child Singred was murdered by humans not so long ago. Do not underestimate them."

If truth be told, he knew allowing Pam so much freedom could have dismal repercussions. He hated to admit he had failed miserably as a maker compared to Godric, but without his guidance these last 100 years life had not been easy. Eric had been struggling for a long time to come to terms with Godric's withdraw from the world, and from him.

Godric's anger subsided as he felt Eric's turmoil over the bond. He closed his eyes and sighed heavily. "I know it has not been easy for you, my child. I can not undo what has been done."

"Maker," Eric quietly said. "What compelled you to such dark emotions for so long? Why did you refuse to see me?"

Godric neatly folded his hands behind his back and frowned. "According to Sierra I had been afflicted by a dark magic for at least a century. It was a curse, Eric, one none of our kind could sense." Looking down at the ground he shook his head. "Both of us have been robbed of a century of companionship and that is not something I can change."

Eric had a look of disgust and shock on his face. "Who the fuck cursed you?"

"One my age acquires many enemies over time, but curses are the calling card of a witch."

"A fucking human did this to you?"

Godric gave a slow nod. "As I said, do not underestimate them. The curse was meant to fill me with despair and eventually drive me to seek my own true death."

Eric looked over his soil covered maker with an unsettling chill crawling up his spine.

"If Sierra had not gathered the courage to approach me and heal me of the curse I would probably be true dead this very moment."

"Wait," Eric interrupted. He looked over at the silent grave. "She healed you? How..."

Godric's gaze followed Eric's. "She is half Earth Fairy. She saw my affliction for what it was. She saved my life."

Eric took a few steps towards the grave in astonishment. "Earth Fairy? There are different kinds of fairies?"

"Apparently so. That is what the swine who raised her call themselves."

There was a long silence as they looked at the grave. Godric knew there would be many more questions to come from Eric and he still had much to learn from Sierra regarding the fairies as well as her past.

"I failed you."

"What?" Godric said surprised.

"I should have known you were cursed. I should have tried to help more. You were on the verge of destroying yourself and I just sat on my throne in my territory and felt sorry for myself."

He shook his head. "No, Eric. This is not your fault."

"I'm your progeny. No one knows you better." Eric's voice became louder. "I knew something wasn't right. I should have done something!"

Godric stepped closer to Eric and put his hands on his shoulders. "Look at me, Eric."

Eric looked away, his face angry and scrunched as he tried to bite back the emotion he was usually supreme at commanding, thanks to Godric's tutelage.

"Look at me, my child." Godric demanded. Eric finally did and and a breath of air exhaled from his mouth when he saw the love in his maker's eyes. Godric put his hand on Eric's chin. "You are the child. I am the maker. I have the greater responsibility to resolve my own problems. I too knew something was wrong, but as time passed my despair seemed almost normal. You are not to blame for my suffering. And if this curse and recovery has taught me anything, it has taught me how important you are," he looked toward the quiet grave where Sierra still slumbered. "That both my progenies are everything."

"Pam is stubborn," Eric said with a half smile, his eyes watery.

"Of course she is. She's your progeny. But Pamela is also mine, just as you are, and I protect what is mine. She is still young and has much to learn. She will learn along side Sierra and Phoenix."

They stared at one another for a few long minutes before Godric reached up and ruffled Eric's hair. Without saying a word he walked over to the grave and knelt, readying himself for a stressful few hours.

Eric began to sober to the meaning behind everything Godric had said tonight. The changes in Godric would impact more than just him, it could very well impact the entire world. And if the world ever needed impacted, it was now. This continent in particular had become nothing more than a parody of the old ways. He looked towards the grave hopefully.

"Do not concern yourself with the matter now, Eric. Once we arrive in Shreveport, you and Sierra will be introduced with a traditional ritual, as is the ancient custom for a new progeny."

"Shit," Eric murmured under his breath, realizing fully the old Godric was back in all his frightening glory. He composed himself and bowed his head. "Yes, my maker." He would have more than a few things to clean up to prepare for him back in Shreveport.

Godric chuckled and rolled his eyes. "Don't worry Eric. Thalia has kept me well informed on all your exploits and mishaps during our estrangement. There is nothing that is hidden from me, even when I was downtrodden with the curse." He stood and stared him in the eyes darkly. "All is forgiven up to this point, even your disobedience to me last week when you spoke on the phone to Sierra. But heed my words, my child, don't let it happen again. The consequences will be…" he paused and his voice darkened. "Undesirable."

Eric gulped and smiled all at the same time. "Pam is going to love you." Then he was gone, disappearing into the shadows of the grove.

* * *

 **A/N:** I'd love to hear what you think.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** I was going to publish this Sunday, but I thought there is no sense in making you guys wait another day since it's ready. Wow what a response! This story got 1000's of hits last week and nearly 200 new readers on top of the 300 who came back to catch up. A million thanks to those of you who left a review last chapter. They are the highlight of my day to read, and your opinions inspire me and make me a better writer, especially those of you who tell me about your favorite parts and even your not so favorite parts. Even your idea's get jotted down in my future scene possibilities, such as the reader who mentioned she hopes Godric finds out about Eric giving his blood away so easily and gets furious. I've been reading a lot of articles lately on the little do's and don'ts of writing so hopefully it will start to show in ch 7 and 8 and the story will only improve.

As always a special thank you to suzymienen who has been my friend since I first started writing fanfic and beta read this chapter.

* * *

Silence lingered in the air. Godric glanced into the heavens to check the progress of the half-moon as it inched across the sky. Every second that passed was painfully slow. He looked back at the quiet grave, his eyes piercing as if he could see into the depths that lie below. Tonight would be the night he saw the dawn of a new era in his life, or it would be the night his hopes were snapped in two. There were many irregularities with Sierra's turning and Godric couldn't help but wonder if something else would go terribly wrong. He glanced back up at the moon. His outer expression was cool and did little to reveal his provoked instincts. He could feel her slumbering mind throb across the bond, a ribbon of consciousness that twined its way around his heart and soul.

His eyes quickly shifted back to the grave and he leaned forward. He sensed their connected bond stir with her waking mind seconds before he saw the tiny crumbs of soil shift. It was a fleeting second but it was enough to tell him that his progeny had stirred below. She had awakened fully! Godric straightened taller on his haunches, excitement buzzing from fang to foot. He reached towards the grave but hesitated. No, she must do this on her own. He crouched patiently by the grave and watched the dark soil shift again. Waves of confusion coming from her soon turned to panic. They were normal feelings. He would be there to calm her when she broke the surface.

His heart leaped inside him. He had a new progeny! A new child! Joy poured out of him and spilled across the bond to Sierra. A spectator would not know his true feelings. Godric crouched silently, his usual stoic and reserved expression on his face. But if you looked closely his eyes revealed his secret thrill. The windows to the soul were not windows for Godric; at least where strangers were concerned. He had mastered even that weakness long ago, but tonight, his eyes were full of wonder, elation, and genuine happiness.

He also felt Eric's excitement as he hid in the trees not too far behind him. He felt the same hopes and dreams he had felt from Eric the night Nora had awakened in her birthing grave, and later, when Pamela had been rebirthed. But Godric had only experienced his grand-progeny awakening across the bond from a great distance. Nora may be a lost progeny, but Sierra was different. She was born of the call of the maker, as Eric had been. It was an unbreakable and everlasting tie. Eric and Godric were forever connected, as 1200 years of companionship and loyalty would attest.

Godric, however, had not been born of the call of the maker. He had risen from his grave alone, scared, starving, and frail, staggering across a foreign landscape for weeks before his maker finally showed up. How he had survived, he would never know. It could have only been dumb luck. The first thing that came out of his maker's mouth when he saw him was a string of curses.

"Your turning was not meant to be," his maker had spat. "I fed you my blood to make you ripe with carnal desire. I drained you! You should be rotting. Those fucking humans must have found you and buried your dead corpse before dawn! How the fuck could this happen!"

Godric looked at his maker confused, his entire body shaking from shock and malnutrition. He had no idea what had happened, or what he was. He did not even know he was supposed to drink blood. All he knew is that the hunger was unbearable and the man who stood before him was his safe haven. Or so his misguided instincts had told him.

After several beatings, his maker calmed. "I may have some use for you yet."

Instead of helping him find his first meal his maker had actually fed on him and left him laying in the dirt the rest of the night. Godric thought he would surely die, but his maker returned before dawn and kicked a thin layer of dirt over him before leaving to his own resting place.

Many more nights would end that way.

Life with his maker had been intolerable after that. He was always kept half starved, endured all manner of abuse, and was often put up for auction on the black market. Godric looked forward to the auctions. It meant he got a full meal so he looked healthier for the bidders who sought pleasure, a servant, or an assassin, among other things.

He would sometimes find peace when his maker would abandon him for months at a time, but decades of mistreatment had turned Godric into nothing more than a beast for years after his maker's true death. It was only when his maker's brother, Emre and Thalia's sire, found him and showed him the true ways of the vampire that Godric began to resemble anything civilized. Though he had managed to rise in power within Section Black, he had only truly just begun to tame shortly before he turned Eric. Throughout his immortal life a streak of feral darkness had always been within him. That streak of darkness occasionally erupted to the surface in all its savage luster.

He looked at the grave, thankful Sierra would never know the horrors he had known. If his upbringing had taught him anything, it was what not to do. In fact, it made him superior as a maker. He was ferocious in his protectiveness of Eric and steadfast in his education, just as he would be for Sierra.

He could sense Sierra was close to breaking the surface. It would be any moment now. He sent her comfort and reassurance over the bond as he waited with patience and excitement.

Finally, her hand broke the surface into the open night air. He couldn't help himself, he reached for her and grabbed her wrist, pulling her completely out and into his arms with one swift easy movement.

"What?" she gasped. Her wide eyes looked up at him, silver orbs staring out under an extremely dirty face. Her hair was a matted brown mess, and her white dress was so stained and dirty it was unrecognizable.

He brushed her dirty hair off her face. "Welcome, min hjarta," he said breathlessly as he looked deeply into her eyes. "Welcome to the world for this is your rebirth and I, Godric am your maker. You are mine Sierra, and I make an eternal promise to you on the night of your birth as a vampire." He closed his eyes briefly, nearly overwhelmed. "I offer you over two and half millennia of ancient knowledge and wisdom, and I will protect you with my life. Together we will walk through the ages, and I will teach you all I know."

She clutched his dirt covered shirt as she laid balled in his lap, enveloped in his arms. "I don't understand."

"I know you are confused, my child. I found you, you were dying. And I could not…" His voice was strangled and he clenched his teeth. "I could not allow you to die. I could not bare it, Sierra," he said bending down with eyes closed and touching his forehead to hers.

"I was dying?"

"Yes," he said breathing against her hair, "When you teleported from my nest your illness must have prevented you from teleporting far. I thought you had gone back to the park, and I searched for you all night. The storm was so immense and raged for hours. When I returned at dawn, I found you dying at the edge of my estate." He raised his head to look at her.

"You told me you would not turn me without my consent, even if I was dying," her eyes were full of shock and pain.

"You must understand." He shook his head, frowning. "Please forgive me, Sierra. I could not..." His eyes tightly shut. "I have no excuse for my actions, other than the thought of your final death was worse than the curse a hundred-fold. A promise has been broken, and this I do not take lightly. I do not deserve your forgiveness, my child, but I ask for it all the same."

After a few seconds, he felt her hand run through the hair at his temple. "You saved my life."

He pulled her up and hugged her tightly against him, one hand tangled in her hair. "You have it all wrong, Sierra. It is you who saved my life. I was nothing more than a shell when you found me that night in the park. You have given me back all I had lost and more."

"Godric, of course I forgive you."

He squeezed her tighter. "You do not know how much joy your words give me.

Her chin rested on his shoulder and she looked up at the stars. They sat there silently for a long time, just absorbing everything and exploring the newly formed bond. "Everything is so different. I can see the stars so clearly. I think I see better in the dark now than I see in the light. It's strange. I feel lighter, and I can feel you in my mind. And I feel weird. I feel... Oh, I feel…" She let out a loud breath and straightened up. Godric looked at her face while she squinted her eyes shut. "I don't know, something is wrong. My throat feels so dry and my cheeks ache all the way down to my stomach."

He smiled. "That is thirst. It's okay. It is normal."

Her eyes snapped open and she looked at him. "What do I do?"

"You will feed."

She looked worried. "Who will I feed on?"

"You will feed only from me for quite some time. My blood is potent. It will give you an advantage, and you will be much stronger than any newborn." He put his hand on her chin. "Open your mouth," he commanded and she obeyed. "You have fangs now, my child. I want to inspect them."

Nothing happened, and she sighed in frustration. "How am I supposed to make them come out?"

He grinned roguishly. "Soon my blood will be flowing over your lips, caressing your tongue as you savor the coolness of it gliding down your throat."

Her fangs immediately snapped out, and she jumped. He chuckled softly.

"Impressive."

"What?" She asked curiously.

"Your fangs are quite long for a female. As long as mine at least, but skinnier." He reached up with both hands and ran his index fingers and thumbs down her two fangs to feel for any imperfections.

She shivered and moaned before she realized what she was doing. Her eyes shot open in embarrassment. "Umm, sorry, that felt very good," she said impishly.

"What about this," He said, puncturing his fingertip on her fang. Three drops of blood fell on her tongue, and her lips enveloped his finger. She breathed heavily through her nose, unnecessary as it was, and her tongue swirled around his finger in languid drawls as she sucked feverishly.

He watched her, his eyebrows rising and his own heavy breath escaping his lips. It took more will than he thought would be necessary to not react.

"Sierra," he coaxed.

"Mmm," she gasped sucking harder as he started pulling his finger out of her mouth.

"Sierra," he laughed. "I want to show you something."

She protested slightly as he dislodged his finger from her mouth.

He held up his wrist and pointed to the vein with his other hand. Her eyes fixated on the blue vein. "The vein in the wrist is a good place to drink from in a pinch. But the wrist is boney, with lots of tendons. You must be careful when you bite down. If you bite too hard you could chip or break a fang against a bone, and they take months to grow back. As you get older, that risk will become less likely, and when you are my age it's practically impossible. But for now, you must be careful. Biting too deep will also sever the vein in a human, and they will bleed out very quickly and die before you get a decent meal. The blood will begin squirting out, and it will make a mess, not to mention it's wasteful."

She licked her lips as she stared at his wrist.

"Come here," he turned her sideways in his lap. "I want you to bite down on my wrist. Sink your fangs in just a few millimeters and suck with your lips."

She hesitated. "What if I sever your vein and you bleed out?"

"You do not have to worry about that with me. You will not hurt me. If you sever my vein it will heal in a few seconds. I will show you how to do it, and then I want you to try."

He picked up her wrist and brought it to his mouth. "When you feed, a small amount of venom is injected from your fangs into the human, or in this case, your maker. The venom contains two toxins. One causes a burst of a sort of euphoric ecstasy. The other is a numbing agent so no pain is felt from whoever you are feeding on. The more practice you get from feeding, the better you can control how much venom you inject. You will eventually be able to prevent yourself from injecting venom at all, if for any reason, you do not want to. But for now, it's going to flow out uncontrollably."

"Can too much venom harm you? I do not want to poison you."

"Min hjarta," he said squeezing her, "you must not worry. Nothing you do to me will hurt me. In fact, the more venom the more enjoyable for whoever you bite. Trust me, I will like it."

He only prayed the massive amounts of venom injected from her fangs on the first feed didn't intoxicate him so much that he was powerless to stifle the need of his body. She may be newborn, but the scent of his release would blanket the air and slam into her nostrils like a dizzying tornado. He didn't want his new progeny to think he couldn't control his faculties.

"Now observe," he said.

He began licking her wrist and sucking on her skin with a slow sensuality that made her realize just how masterful he was at this. Her breath came out shaky as she watched him work and she rubbed her thighs together subconsciously.

"Your saliva also has anti-pain toxins," his breath was cool against her wet skin as he whispered in deeper tones than he usually spoke with, "and sucking on the vein through the skin before biting plumps it up." He sucked and licked slow inch by slow inch the entire length of her wrist and forearm where the blue vein was visible. "Plus it is, mmm, so enjoyable."

Finally, he slowly sank his fangs in, injecting her with more venom than he usually did when he fed. He wanted her first experience, at least her first conscious experience, of being bitten by him to be as pleasant as possible.

"Oh," she gasped, watching him. "Oh, my." Her back arched slightly against his arm and she let her head fall lazily backwards, her eyes closing as she stretched in his lap. "I see what you mean."

"Do not look away," he groaned between draws of her blood. "Look at me."

Though he took little, his body reacted with violent bliss as his every hair stood on end. He was reminded of the night he drained her and the dizzying ecstasy that had wracked his body. He released her wrist with a loud breath.

"Gods your blood is even better now."

He ran his hand through his hair and shook his head, trying to regain his senses. He brought her wrist back to his mouth and greedily licked at the healing puncture marks.

"That's what feeding is like?" she said in a flush.

His hooded eyes locked on hers as he brushed his lips slowly over her wrist. He took his time answering, unable to tear his eyes from hers as his tongue flicked out between wet lips to taste her skin. "Sometimes," he purred in a deep accent.

He slowly raised his head and brought his hand to the nape of her neck pushing her body into position so she had to lean forward.

"Now it is your turn. Take your time," he said raising his wrist to her mouth. "Do not be afraid."

She held his wrist with both hands and sucked the skin over the blue vein.

"Good," he encouraged. "Do you see how sucking gathers the blood in the area you are about to bite, plumping it up?"

"Mmhmm," she mouthed, licking his skin.

"Now sink your…" He hissed in pleasure, sucking in air as her fangs penetrated him. "Perfect," he softly said. "Not too deep. That's it."

He felt her venom swirl through his veins, vibrating his blood and he couldn't contain himself. He moaned loudly and closed his eyes, his entire body going limp as his shoulders slouched and the hand at the nape of her neck falling to the ground behind her.

He opened his eyes to see her watching him as she drank. "You are doing well, minn…" His chest heaved as his lips pursed, dimpled from his fully extended fangs, "minn hjarta. Do not stop. You need more blood."

His body throbbed hotly and he bent down and bit her shoulder desperately to prevent himself from rocking his hips against her as she sat in his lap.

As the initial barrage of the venom settled within him he calmed and released her shoulder, burying his face in her neck and purring as she drank. For long minutes she fed, whimpering excitedly as she gulped down his blood. He wrapped his free arm around her, rubbing her back as the vibrations from his purrs soothed her.

When he felt his body become sluggish from blood loss, he began to stop her, but she was already disengaging with amazing control, having sensed him slipping into weakness.

They both straightened and looked at each other, her face flush, his ghostly pale. "How did you like it?" He asked.

She looked down shyly and smiled. "It was amazing. I do not know how to put it in words."

The corner of his mouth rose in a cocked smile. "The first feeding is always the best for both progeny and maker."

He stood up, grasping her sides and lifting her into a standing position. He stumbled slightly, dizzy from the experience and lack of blood. "The night dwindles and we have much to do to prepare for dawn," he said opening the cooler and looking inside.

There were six bags of blood left and he knew he would need every one of them to maintain himself tonight and upon their awakening tomorrow. He grabbed the last bag of AB Neg, his favorite human flavor, and tore into it.

She walked up to him and put her hand on his arm. "Is that more blood?"

He nodded as he drank hurriedly.

"Can I try it?"

He stopped drinking and let loose his fangs from the bag. "No, you will only drink from me. It is healthier for you."

"But I want to taste it," she protested. "Is it human blood?"

He sighed, and sank his fangs back in, finishing the bag as she watched incredulously, crossing her arms over her chest.

When he finished he tossed the bag back in the cooler and she huffed in irritation at his blood covered lips that formed a cruel grin. Godric himself would never admit it, but her feeding had left him touched with a bloodlust he was having trouble reigning in.

"There is a river nearby. We will bathe the dirt and smell of death from our bodies before setting out in search of a resting place."

Affronted that he wouldn't share, she sat on the ground with a thud and looked away, angrily furrowing her brow.

"Let's go, my child. Dawn will be upon us in a few hours."

She crossed her arms and when he stepped closer to pull her up she looked him dead in the eye before teleporting away.

The excitement of her rising had left him neglecting one extremely important detail that could have dreadful consequences. One of the first things he had meant to do when she awoke was to command her not to teleport without his permission or unless her life was in danger. She had already proven to him several times that when she was uncomfortable, or did not want to deal with a difficult situation, her reaction was to teleport.

He could see her re-appear about a hundred feet away, he knew her instincts would compel her not to go far from him so soon after her rising. But he growled in frustration all the same, the roar causing her to turn quickly, an oh shit look on her face.

Within seconds Godric was in front of her, clutching her shoulders tightly and pushing her against a tree in the grove she had appeared in. The very tree he knew Eric was hovering in. She gasped at the look of feral anger and bloodlust in his eyes. He was a predator after all, and chasing her when he was already on edge, when his blood was already stirred, only heightened his vampiric instincts.

"You flee from your maker in spite? You want a taste that badly do you?" He growled with a scowl. "Very well, than taste this."

He crashed his mouth to hers roughly and feverishly. She pushed against him before soon relenting and pressing her body to his. She moaned, sucking the blood on his lips as she gave into the fiery kiss.

Dear gods, he couldn't fight against the thoughts that were thundering through him. The feel of her against him flooded his senses. Her very smell dazed his mind. Her soft lips against his was torturous paradise. He pressed his tongue to her lips, demanding entry. The taste of the blood that he had been drinking quivered through her with every push of his tongue against hers. His forceful kiss became slower as he lingered, savoring her lips. His hands circled her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss deepened, as it became more passionate.

Both their breaths were trembling, mingling, hungry.

In an instant, his hand was on her cheek, tilting her head to the side, his lips smoldering and his grip tightening as he kissed up and down her jaw, nipping and tasting and drawing in her scent as he went.

Fluttering her eyes, her hands twined around his neck. "Godric." Her whisper was dreamy, prolonging each letter.

Suddenly he became aware of exactly what he was doing as he held his newly risen progeny in his arms, her own pleasure crashing around him in the bond. His body became rigid and his shaky breath lingered on the side of her face as the kisses stopped.

He quickly released her and turned around, taking a few steps away. His teeth were clenched as he internally cursed himself for losing control.

Her eyes were wide and she was frozen in shock, arousal, and her own type of bloodlust. She leaned against the tree and stared at his back as he stood there, his hands folded neatly behind him. His body was stiff and tense. He looked at the ground closing his eyes.

"I apologize, my child. I should not have done that."

He felt Eric ag him on in the bond excitedly and he mentally kicked him away, careful to hide the interaction with Eric from her, at least until she was ready to feel another.

He stood there for a few more moments until he was sure he had reigned in all his bloodlust and had complete control of himself, something a vampire had to constantly be attentive to. It was even more important during the night of a progenies rising, and he couldn't help but feel he had failed.

Finally, he turned around and stared at her, all emotion devoid from his face.

"You will not teleport again without my express permission, unless your life is in immediate danger. If there is a life-threatening danger and teleportation is unavoidable, you will only teleport to a rendezvous spot I have designated. You will wait for me or an elder of our blood-kin to arrive and collect you. This order will remain for one year and may stay in effect longer if I deem fit." He paused and took a deep unnecessary breath through his nose. "As your maker, I command it."

She bowed her head, seemingly without her own control as his crackling power coiled around her. "I understand, maker."

* * *

Sierra looked around her familiar dreamscape. "This is downtime? But Godric said it was supposed to be a void to empty the mind."

It was supposed to be nothingness. He had explained downtime to her and told her he wanted her to try it before they walked to the river to bathe off the soil and dried blood that was caked on their bodies from head to toe. He said the night had been tense and full of excitement, and they both needed a few moments to shut the world out. Downtime was an ideal way to accomplish that since they would remain aware of the outside world and any lurking dangers while they fell into a vampiric meditation.

She looked around. The shooting stars were still streaking across the sky, the fireflies were still bouncing around the night air, and the small buds on the bushes were still twinkling with all colors of light. It was the furthest thing from nothingness that it could be.

Her eyes were drawn to the now red waters of her memory pool, which was swirling with dream magic as it did before it showed her a memory. But lately, they weren't memories at all, at least not memories she had any knowledge of. Last time, it even showed her people she had not even met, but she had been much too weak to pay attention to what it was showing her. But now, she felt strong and alive, and she was curious what images it would conjure.

She walked over to the pool and sat down, staring intensely as an image came into fruition. She sneered when she saw Garrett, the Earth Fairy elder of her village that had been responsible for ordering her beatings as a child.

"Our informant tells us the half-blood lives," Garrett said.

"How is that possible? I ensured the portal to Earth emerged in the heart of Death's territory. She should be drained and dead by now," Condé said in puzzlement.

"Apparently, according to our informant, not only is she very much alive, but Death has befriended her and even offered her the kiss of immortal life."

Condé gasped in horror. "If she accepts we are doomed."

"Trust me, I know. I was only a child, but I witnessed that abomination, Warlow, as he tore through our realm all those centuries ago. The Sky Fairy was the only of our kind to ever successfully be turned, and it nearly destroyed us all. Even to this day we have never fully recovered. It took all of the four kingdoms to fight him and kill him"

"She must be brought to trial. It is against our highest law to consort with vampires."

"Fool, do you not think that if we bring her to trial that our plan to have her murdered will not be discovered? It will be our heads on the block. No," Garrett said thoughtfully, "we require a plan with more finesse."

"We must move quickly, before that monster poisons her with his vampiric affliction. Your plan to have the Boy Death destroy her to ignite rage across the four kingdoms and rally all of Faedom behind your war banner has failed."

Garrett grunted soberly.

'The informant, that mongrel fairy born without the spark… What was her name?"

"Pearl."

"Are you sure Pearl was accurate in her observations?" Condé asked.

"Positive. I gave her a potion to mask her scent so she could follow the vampire and hybrid and gather more information. It cost me half my fortune for the ingredients."

"We could hire an assassin to dispose of the girl and blame it on the vampire. The Fire Fae Kingdom is wealthy. We can have another scent-masking potion made and..."

Garrett looked at Condé, a deep frown on his face. "She's been missing for six days and the vampire's nest the informant followed them to has been abandoned."

"Gods," Condé said putting his face in his hands. "He's already turned her. Death himself has turned one of our own. Half-blood as she was, she was still born with the spark, a child of the fair-folk. She is one of us. This is our fault. We tried to have her murdered just as we murdered Gregor her father," he wailed, "striking him down with our iron swords when he threaten to appeal to the high council for having his daughter taken away. The Gods have punished us for our treachery."

Condé started to fall to his knees sobbing but Garrett grabbed him and shook him violently. "Compose yourself old friend."

Before Garrett finished his thought, he looked into the sky anxiously and squinted.

"What is it?' Condé said rising to his feet.

"Quiet," the elder said looking around suspiciously. "We aren't alone. Someone is here."

Condé turned his head from side to side in search of a trespasser. "No one is here."

"Someone is spying on us fool. Can't you feel it?" Garrett looked over and peered directly at Sierra through the memory pool. She flinched. She was sure he couldn't see her, but he was looking directly in her eyes. "Do not worry Condé my old friend. I have a plan"

The images faded away slowly as the murky red waters of the memory pool became silent and still. Sierra knelt over the waters, blood red tears streaming down her face. She reached up and wiped them away with the back of her hand as she sniffed.

The image of her father's face formed in her mind. His gentle face was as she remembered him the last time she saw him when she was eight years old. Could it be true? Could Garrett have had her father murdered because of her? A trembling cry escaped her as she stood in her cove, eyes wide with disbelief. She shook her head in confusion, unsure how even Garrett could carry out such an abhorrent act. She twined her clenched fists in her hair.

No.

Dropping her hands to her sides she quickly turned her back to the memory pool. It wasn't true.

"This is just a dream. My dream world! It's always been…" She paused, staring up at the starry sky with watery eyes.

"Gods," she said, her broken voice echoing in the cove.

Falling to her knees, she put her face in her hands and wept. She wept, and wept, her sad laments rang through the air as the pain swallowed her whole. It swallowed her entire soul until she was drowning in grief and sorrow. She had once loved her father dearly and spent countless hours as a small child by his side. She thought him gone, ordered away back to his profession by the council, abandoning her. It was not he that had forsaken her, but she that had forsaken his memory.

After a time, her cries turned to hiccups and she wiped her face, her movements listless and slow. Her mouth was dry and bitter with dejection, and she sat slumped staring towards the ground at nothing. She would have preferred the nothingness that Godric had spoken of as his guiding voice gently lulled her into downtime. She could feel her maker now, his ghostly form sitting cross-legged in front of her. His aura emitted tranquility. Yet, it also exuded an ominous threat to anyone or anything that came within proximity as he floated in nothingness, his mind devoid of all thought, except the most primal intuitions.

She realized what she had just seen in the pool was no memory and must hold terrible truths. There were many unanswered questions, but it explained so much. Her father's disappearance, Garrett's disdain for her, the motives behind her banishment to Earth, and even Pearl's love for the same things the Earth Fae loved.

It all made sense. A fairy born without a spark. She had heard of such things, but they seemed more myth and legend than anything. It would explain why Pearl had no aura that other supernaturals had. She had no magic within her, but she still had a familial connection to the fairies.

She stood up. "Why do they hate me so much?" Another tear ran down her cheek. "What have I ever done except try to conform and please them?"

She wondered what made her so special to be chosen as a sacrifice for Garrett's agenda. "Is it just because I'm half fairy? Does that make me expendable? Is that all it takes to garner so much hate?"

She angrily kicked some loose rocks into the memory pool. She would tell Godric of this. He would have some wisdom on what they should do. He seemed to know everything. But she didn't want to spoil their first night as maker and progeny, and she strangely had an internal knowledge the sun would rise soon. She would tell him when they awoke tomorrow.

* * *

 **A/N:** I hope you enjoyed it. Chapter 8 should be ready next weekend! Again thank you for your encouraging feedback and please continue to take the time to support your SVM/TB fanfic authors by hitting the review button.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** A special thanks to suzymienen for beta reading this chapter.

* * *

Godric walked stealthily towards the river, like air over the terrain. He was holding the strap of his hiking pack on his back with one hand to steady it and carrying the small cooler with the other. The hiking backpack Eric provided was of good quality, and so large only the top of Godric's head and his waist down were visible from his progeny who followed behind. He turned, glancing over his shoulder at her with one stern eyebrow raised when the snapping of a twig cracked under her foot. The sharp noise caused a nearby owl to clumsily retreat from its perch in the trees. The brute cursed a raucous screech as it flew away.

"Forgive me," she apologized, slightly embarrassed. "I still feel a vestige of light headedness."

"You will feel better once you are clean and get a good day's slumber." Stopping, he crouched to the ground and waved her over. "You should be able to hear the river now. We are making good time and it is only a mile trek from here."

She knelt beside him and was silent for a moment. "Yes, I think I hear it," she said with melancholy. Other things had been on her mind. She had been deep in thought about what she saw in her dream cove.

Godric looked at her as they knelt together on the game trail they had been following. "Tell me your troubles, child."

She looked at him and somberly smiled. "It is nothing. As you said, I shall feel better when I am clean and refreshed from slumber."

He nodded and stood as he began walking again. He would not press her further if she did not wish to confide in him that moment. Her sullen mood was no doubt his doing. He had already made one terrible mistake since her awakening. He pursed his lips. He had forced himself on her, forced his lips to hers like a savage. His internal struggles mattered not. As the elder, as her maker, he had no business nor had no right to dishonor her as he had. And while he could feel her passion lush and thick through the bond as their lips crashed together, he knew that it was nothing more than the bloodlust of a newly risen progeny.

"I recently fed, and yet, my thirst is barely quenched," she complained.

The corner of his mouth quivered. "You only need one sip a night to sustain yourself."

"Then why do I feel as if I will collapse and die from thirst?"

"Your lust for blood will never diminish. Your ability to control that lust, however, will grow stronger with time. And some night, when you are an ancient, you will find that one small meal a night satisfies your cravings." He looked over at her and winked. "Unless of course you have a progeny who drains your veins. Then you will need to replenish yourself often."

He stopped to watch her leap over a small dwell that twined through the trees. He began to walk beside her.

"When Eric rose from his first day-rest the night after his transition," he said, his eyes full of fondness, "we hunted half the night, and he wasn't satisfied until he had gorged himself on five humans. I remember thinking it was just my fortune to have turned the largest progeny for a hundred leagues." His amusement waned when he saw her confused brow, and he realized that his loose tongue had let something slip that he should not have.

"Eric got to hunt humans the night after his rebirth? But maker, you told me since I was newly born that I should drink only from you for some time to come."

His face was blank as he looked ahead and stepped over a rock. "You are correct, Sierra. I did say that. For now you will only drink from me. Your turning was not like Eric's," he glanced over at her. "I nearly lost you."

She nodded, trusting her maker's decision.

He pushed a truth that he knew out of his mind. The truth he chose to dismiss would be plain to any maker that had ever turned a progeny. Only allowing their child to drink from them was not normal. It went beyond mere maker possessiveness and teetered on rabid fanaticism. Something was quite unique about this turning and it explained the root cause of his behavior. Godric was too confident in his experience and abilities to recognize it, and Sierra was too young and naive to vampire ways to know the difference.

Godric had knowledge of the unique call of the maker, called 'call of the heart' by some fanciful ancients who had heard of it. It was considered such a superstition and so taboo to even consider it truth, that it had only crossed his ears once, and it had all but been forgotten over the ages. He dismissed it as myth nearly a millennium ago when he learned of it. The call of the heart was nothing more than a fictional rumor, and Godric found the idea so ludicrous that it had not even crossed his mind concerning Sierra.

Instead, Godric rationalized his behavior, surmising that it was a combination of factors that left him so stirred. The reasons swept through his mind one after the other. He was overly protective when it came to his progenies and had always been. Sierra nearly died during her transition. Nearly a century of no sex had caused him to emerge from his curse in a river of desire. Never had he seen such a beautiful creature as she, inside and out. He was out of practice controlling his bloodlust since he had not experienced it during the dark period of his life. The rationalizations were never ending, and dozens more excuses came to mind. The feelings would pass when everything settled.

"Why do you think my transition took twice as long as the typical turning?"

"I do not have the answer, minn hjarta, but I suspect it may be because you are half fairy. Many progenies have been turned in much worse condition than you were, and yet, I have never heard of a rebirth taking more than three nights. We are venturing into the unknown, and as a precaution, I will ensure that you have every advantage I can give you. This includes the potency of my blood."

"I accept your gift with honor," she bowed her head, somehow understanding the magnitude of what he offered.

He smiled contently, one corner of his mouth rising. "We have arrived at our destination."

They walked onto the rocky shore of a lazy flowing river, a layer of thick mist hovering over it like an eerie lullaby. The moonlight bathed the misty waters in pale unearthy tones. Rising sheer into the inky sky, a cliff towered on the opposite bank, it's rampart stone layers glinted sandy-blue and soft ash under the half moon. Silhouettes of foliage decorated the giant palisade, and a curtain of stringy leaf-covered branches hung from crooked trees and dipped into the mist.

Surveying the area cautiously, Godric approached the waters and sat his pack on the ground. The moon passed behind the clouds and the darkness of the night deepened, momentarily silencing the singing katydids that hid in the shadows of the woodland thicket they just left behind.

They both looked upstream to the wrinkled mountains of the Rockies that soared into the sky, their snow-caps drizzling down through the veins of their stony crags. The grandeur of it all made Sierra feel small, nothing more than a spec on a vast and marvelous macrocosm.

"Nothing such as this exists where I come from," she softly voiced.

Contentment spread over Godric's face as he drank in his progeny. Her eyes were full of fascination for things he had always taken for granted. So seldom he indulged in the beauty of the Earth anymore, and he walked up behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders. There they stood together looking upon the wilderness and soaking in the immense creation that surrounded them from horizon to horizon.

Godric looked towards the thicket as the birds slowly began to voice their welcoming of the coming day. "We must prepare for your first day-slumber." He walked towards the pack on the ground and bent down over it. Looking up at her he gestured towards the river. "You begin, and I will join you in a moment."

She looked down at what was left of the only clothing she owned with concern. "It's ruined."

"Do not worry, minn hjarta. I have a change of clothes for you, and once we arrive in Shreveport you will have everything you need." He pointed over his shoulder. "Lay everything in a pile. We will burn our clothes tomorrow when we rise."

She walked behind him as he turned his back to her, and he began cataloging the supplies Eric had packed, something he really didn't need to do that moment. "I have worn this dress since I was twelve. I've altered it a few times because I could not fit my arms in it anymore and it was too tight. This dress has become a part of me."

He stopped what he was doing, his back still turned to her as he knelt over the bag. She had worn that dress for nearly five years, and it had become nothing more than a frayed cloth that covered her.

He pulled some more supplies from the bag and continued his cataloging. "You are born anew, Sierra." He pulled a bottle of water from the bag and stared at it. "Together, we will wash your mortal plights from you. We must cleanse your heart, cleanse your soul, and cleanse your body. And that dress, Sierra, we will burn it together and watch the ash drift away in the wind, and it will fill us with hope."

After a moment, she began speaking as she stood behind him. "Will you be bathing as well?"

"Get in the water. I will join you when I am finished here."

He heard her dress rustle and lightly fall to the ground. Seconds later, her padding footsteps could be heard walking away from him, towards the river. When he heard the splashing of the water, he stood up and stripped his shirt off.

Looking over his shoulder, he tossed his shirt in the pile with her dress and glanced in her direction. He felt a rush in his blood and trembling ache in his fangs and quickly turned back around, staring, eyes aflame, into the spruce wood. She was still standing at the edge of the river, only ankle deep as she splashed the water with her foot and tested the temperature.

This is what he feared and why he had lingered over the pack. Looking away from her made no difference. The enchanting image of her from behind standing bare and raw in the pale moonlight on the shore of that mist-covered river would be forever etched in his photographic memory. The thin red scars down the length of her entire back only added to the wild and tameless appearance of her character, as if she had battled a large feline or bear and the smudges of dirt on her skin and in her disheveled hair gave her a feral visage that rivaled his own.

She was his progeny, and he found he already loved her, but loving her was torture, because it was a foreign love that he had never allowed himself to know, a love he dared not ever savor. Eternity was a long time, with no length or depth, and a vampire's heart was fleeting.

He had no deficit of skill and passion when it came to the art of pleasure. He could go to her that very moment like an inferno. He could make the world fall away from her as he touched her, felt her, kissed her. A real kiss, full of fire and hungry sensuality, not like the forceful besieging of her mouth he had stolen against the tree. He could do things to her that would make her weep, and crumble, and beg him never to stop.

But how long would it last? A month, a year, ten years, or even a few hundred. Nothing but a flitting moment in time to an immortal. He wanted her forever by his side, someone he walked through the ages with, as he had with Eric, and to have her as an eternal companion meant he must be very careful how he proceeded. It was not such an uncommon thing for a maker and progeny to couple occasionally, but never as mates who devoted their everlasting hearts to only each other. And yet, frighteningly, the more time he spent with her, the more sure he became that this very thing was exactly what he desired from her. He wanted more than the mere companionship a progeny born of the maker call provided. If he began such a venture he knew he could never let go, and he refused to rob her of the adventure that was yet to come. Just as he refused to rob himself of her eternal companionship when she eventually had no choice but to ask for release to escape his hungry heart.

He clamped down his internal struggle with iron precision, and tucked it far away from the bond between them, but Godric teetered on the edge of a dangerous precipice. In his nearly three millennia, he had faced vicious enemies, slaughtered countless armies, strategized the demise of hundreds of adversaries, and even came within inches of his own true death at least a dozen times, but never had anything disturbed him more than the disconcerting feelings that Sierra awakened inside him.

* * *

Sierra waded into the deeper misty soup of the river, feeling the eddying of the water as it passed through her outstretched fingers. She watched the wake of the mist as her hands glided along the surface, revealing the glossy black depths below. She could feel the icy cold of the river envelop her, but oddly, it didn't make her shiver, it didn't make her uncomfortable at all. She half expected it to leech the warmth from her muscles with every step, but it felt more like a cool silk cocooning her.

Everything was so different now, and yet, the same. She couldn't quite form the sensations into words; it was as if there was an ambiguous depth to all of creation that had been hidden to her before. She found this amazing as she always had a special connection to nature. She had expected to lose some of that connection as a vampire, but she was pleasantly surprised to learn that her beloved relationship to the Earth had not diminished, but rather, it had expanded. It opened her eyes to new wonders.

And indeed her eyes were opened now, opened to the crispness and sharpness of the beauty all around her. Like the hawk, the only thing obscuring her vision was the curving of the Earth over the horizon. She could even discern the outlines of the black clouds above as they glided along the freckled black sky.

Red was the most vivid color to her now. It seemed to almost bewitch and lure her in, inviting her to touch it. The Buffaloberries they passed as they walked along the game trail, the King's Crown flower she could see growing atop the cliff, and the red fox that warily watched them from his den a distance down the river; their enchanting red hue's snared her senses with otherworldly temptation.

Godric said it was the yearning thirst, and he called it bloodlust. The bloodlust excited a vampires emotions, arousing them in every conceivable way, he had explained, and was especially dangerous for the young, who were unpredictable and lacked any semblance of discipline. That was why it was important for him, as her maker, to be aware of everything she was doing to ensure her safety. The chaotic rush of bloodlust wasn't all-consuming, but when she saw red, notably blood, or Godric came especially close, his scent filling her nostrils, her mind would momentarily be mesmerized and the rest of the world would peel away.

She felt the smooth slick rocks under her bare feet as she moved into deeper waters. When the river was nearly up to her collarbone, she dipped underneath the hazy depths and completely submerged herself. When she broke back above the surface, she realized Godric had been treading from the rocky shoals of the river behind her. He was drawing closer, and she turned around swiftly to face him, the water streaming down her face and in her eyes. She ran her hands over her hair and head to shed the water down her back. Blinking the drops from her eyes just in time, she saw his naval dip below the mist as he moved deeper.

"This soap will cleanse you," he said gliding closer and handing her the bar Eric had packed. "The humans make soap to aid in bathing."

She was momentarily speechless as she looked at his muscled chest and shoulders, the tribal tattoo's on his body completely exposed to her for the first time. When she lived in the village, she had seen many shirtless males, but it had never been like this. Never so close, never in the moonlight, and looking at them never made her blood flutter as it did when she looked at Godric.

She gently took the soap from his hand. "We had something similar in the village."

She looked up at him smiling, remembering the kiss they had shared earlier, but when she saw his blank face, her own fell. The bond was just as empty as his eyes, only hints of concern and anxiety as he glanced at the horizon where the sun would soon rise.

She turned her back to him and lathered the soap in her hands. Rubbing her soapy hands on her face she wondered if now was a good time to tell him about what she had seen in the memory pool of her dreamscape. She knew it was important. Garrett and the Prince of the Fire Fae, two very important men, wanted to wage war on vampires, and they wanted to use her death at the hands of Godric to unite the four kingdoms in their quest to take back Earth. They must be fools to think Godric would ever harm her. He had been polite and gentle to her since they had first spoken.

She didn't understand why her death would even matter to any Fairy. The council of her own village, led by Garrett, had all but forsaken her when they cast her to the wilds. If the other fairies were willing to allow her banishment without stopping it, then she could not imagine why they would be angered by her death. She was just one solitary halfling who had been rejected. She held no importance or status.

Sierra mentally pushed away her past or at least she tried her best. She would not tell him of the memory pool vision tonight. If she did, there would be other questions about her childhood. She planned to tell him when they rose tomorrow, after she had time to think on it, after she had time to construct her words so that other questions did not come up. It was too painful to think about her past and she wanted to avoid dredging up old memories if possible.

Her mood became deeply sad and somber as she thought about her father Gregor. She never knew that Garrett and the others held so much hate for her. So much so they had murdered her father. Her poor father. She had held a secret resentment for him all these years. She thought he had abandoned her, given up on her, left her at the hands of those who didn't care about her. She had fond memories of him before he was ordered by the Earth Council to leave the village and continue his business dealings on Earth. But it had all been a ruse, a trick to make him disappear, disappear into his grave. She had not seen him in ten years, since she was eight years old, and there were times when she was filled with so much anger towards her father she had cried herself to sleep. She bit back a shaky breath, trying to hold the tears at bay.

"Let me help you," Godric gently said. He was suddenly right next to her as he took the soap from her hand. She looked up at him and saw her grief reflected in his sad eyes as their gaze met. He put his hand on her face, rubbing her chin with his thumb and drew her closer. "I am here now, my child. Your heart overflows with despair. I am sorry I could not protect you from the pain you have suffered, but I am here now."

He wiped a tear tenderly as it began to fall from the corner of her eye, and he brought his finger to his lips. His eyes never left hers.

"Your pain is my pain, my child. I do not know all that you have endured, but bitterness and anguish was my only companion for many years. I understand suffering all too well, and I will do all that I can to help you find some meaning in what has happened to you."

He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around so that her back was to him. She heard him lathering the soap before his hands glided over her bare skin. He slowly scrubbed down her back below the icy waters, and she could feel the grime shed from her as his hands moved.

"Remember the vampire I told you of, my maker's brother, who found me and helped me when I was younger?"

She nodded.

"He was a very wise ancient. He told me that suffering, failure, pain, and loss are all part of the journey, but from these things emerge the strongest souls." His finger traced the scar down her back. "As vampires we do not always have the luxury or fortune of bearing the scars that remind us we survived and healed, remind us where we have been and affirm to us where we are going."

There was a pause before she quietly spoke. "I hate my scars."

Compassion blanketed her mind. Compassion that was not her own. His hand was on her shoulder turning her to face him. She slowly looked at him, held hostage by the softness there, and her knitted brow eased. Cupping her face in his hands their gaze melted together.

"Gods, child. You have no idea how beautiful you are, scars and all." He brushed her cheekbones with his thumbs. "Shed your shame, minn hjarta, and allow me to bare witness to your story. There is powerful healing in sharing one's darkest experiences."

Her lips trembled. "I'm afraid, Godric. I'm afraid to…" She quickly turned and tried to move away but his hands were on her arms again facing her towards him.

He didn't say a word. And there were those eyes again, those soulful blue-grey eyes, looking down at her full of compassion, the bond emanating with understanding.

Her eyebrows slanted and she wrenched her arm from his hand, causing the water to splash. It was so much easier to ignore the things that happened to her, the beatings, the ridicule, to shut it away and try to forget about it. Why did he want her to feel the pain, the sadness of her memories? He was just as bad as her memory pool.

She tried to teleport, but a sickening feeling hammered through her so quickly and violently that her knees buckled and she lost her balance. The river rushed over her head and shoulders as she fell deeper, her muscles paralyzed with nausea. Struggling, she managed to flail her arms, and the frigid waters whirled around her hair as she sank.

It all happened so fast, and before she had time to think, Godric was catching her and pulling her back to the surface. When she opened her eyes, his face was the first thing she saw looking down at her.

For a split second, she thought she felt gratification pulse across the bond, gratification that his maker command had prevented her teleportation. This only fueled her anger. Her heightened vampire emotions were consuming her.

"Every single week for four years I was dragged to the scaffold and lashed with leather until my back was splayed open! Is that what you want to hear?" She screamed. She beat his chest with her fists, kicking up water. "Or maybe you want to hear about how every elder on the Earth Fae council voted to banish me from the village. How I had to watch them bring in witnesses who testified how stupid I was, or how I was always dirty, or accuse me of stealing."

Her tears blinded her as she continued to beat his chest faster. He didn't move. Her voice became loud and shrill, and she watched her fists as she hit him. She couldn't bare to look him in the eyes.

"I was alone! I floated from den to den. Nobody cared what happened to me! Nobody wanted me!"

She screamed and screamed, horrid crime after horrid crime against her spilling from her lips in a histeric babble. This went on for long minutes as she revealed everything to him. What they had done to her. How they had hurt her. How it had made her feel. How worthless she was. How she had always lived in fear. How she longed for death alone in the wilds. How coming to Earth had given her hope but that was a lie too. How she didn't understand why he was making her tell him these things.

Her blows became more labored until finally they stopped, her hands falling to her sides below the water. She squeezed her eyes shut and hung her head, her tears splashing in the river.

"I was twelve years old. Out in the wilds alone. It was cold and all the plants started dying. I was so hungry all the time. I felt so abandoned and betrayed by my village, by my father. Eight years I had given my devotion to him, my trust. And he just left."

Her voice was so broken it was barely discernible. She leaned against his chest and his arms circled around her pulling her tightly against him.

"But now, now I know I failed him too. He's dead, Godric. Dead! Garrett murdered him. That's why he never came back for me. I've hated him and he didn't...he didn't deserve it. I let them do whatever they wanted to me without complaint just as I let them kill my father. They were right all along. I'm a...a stupid half-blood fairy, the village jo...joke. I deserve these scars because they prove what a coward I am."

She stood there, shoulder deep in water against him, hiccuping and growling, full of disgust and anger, reliving everything that had happened to her. All the pain of her life culminated into a few solitary moments and it hurt so badly. But Gods, it felt so good, the relief to tell someone what happened.

"And then… and then tonight, I discover from my memory pool during downtime that my entire life is a farce! Planned all along by Garrett and Condé." She rubbed her eyes hard and growled before burying her face back in his chest. "From the first beating, to my final death at your hands. I was just a...a tool, because Fae Realm is dying. An instrument to blame you for the death of a child fairy."

She moaned miserably, the diseased wound in her shattered heart exposed and opened as she told him all about her friends Pearl and Mickey, the only ones before Godric who had ever showed her kindness.

"Even Pearl, my only friend, was part of the deceit, spying on me, on us."

Her muscles went weak and she leaned against him limply. Her voice became feeble and sluggish.

"Garrett was so angry when he f...found out you turned me vampire. They said you were supposed to drain me and kill me. Had you not felt the call of the maker that would have come true too."

The bond was completely silent and dead. She didn't know what he was thinking. His face moved to the top of her head and her hair fluttered rapidly from the sharp breaths flaring from his nostrils. His hand slowly caressed down her spine to the small of her back, and the other tangled in her hair and massage her scalp.

"Never," he whispered with dark and guttural tones. His muscles were rigid like granite as he held her, squeezing her tightly, drawing her protectively into a blanket of a his body, his strength wrapping around her.

Sierra weakly closed her eyes in exhaustion, a numb ache trembling inside her. She leaned against him, her face still buried in his chest while he rubbed her back, his fingertips lingering on her scars. She knew they had to go, but she didn't think she could will her muscles to move.

His body shifted, his muscles flexing, and then she was being lifted out of the water into his arms, the liquid shedding from her and cascading back to the river. She somehow felt it was shedding a part of her sorrow from her too, the water taking some of her pain with it and leaving it at the bottom of that black eerie river.

With half open eyelids, she watched the stars bounce above her as he took each step. She felt like one of those black clouds floating under the night sky, and her head and limbs dangled from her body carelessly. She listened to the river gently eddy around his legs as he moved through shallower waters, until he reached the bank and the only sound she heard was the drops falling from their bodies and dripping on the rocky shore below his feet.

She twined her arms around his neck and shoulders and closed her eyes as he walked onto the shore.

He stopped by the hiking backpack and she heard him softly speaking in a strange language. Her head was swimming with the dull ache of her heart and the throbbing thirst of her fangs and the sickness of the coming dawn that Godric had told her of earlier in the night. Everything seemed so far away, but she thought she sensed someone else there, speaking quietly to Godric in the same strange language.

It was like a dream, but the other voice came so close, hovering above her head, his tones dark and angry, yet tender and cautious.

Before she could open her eyes to look, Godric turned and was moving again, upstream, alongside the edge of the water.

She wasn't sure how long he was walking along the river. She didn't worry about it. She didn't worry that she was naked in his arms. She didn't worry that the sun would rise any moment. She had never felt so safe, so secure, as she did snug in his arms. It had been a long time since she had relied on anyone to care for her.

The bond was still empty, other than faint undertones of love and protection pulsing to her. She cracked her eyelids to peer at his face. He was looking forward as he carried her. His eyes were glazed and she briefly saw a savage tempest deep within them.

He glanced down at her, piercing into her, the deepness of his gaze reaching her soul. His face was as blank as the nothingness he had spoken of earlier that night, and he filtered some of his stronger emotions out of the bond, but she realized his eyes sometimes revealed to her what lie in his heart. And at that moment, his eyes flashed with a terrible fury and a profound need to protect her. But even that quickly plummeted to the depths of his soul as he looked at her, replacing it with soft smiling eyes.

He looked back ahead as he carried her along the river bank. The sheer cliffs had rose on both sides of the river, creating a deep gorge. He stopped and surveyed the view ahead. Across the canyon, a ways upstream, there were several cliffside caverns.

* * *

 **A/N:** This was probably the hardest chapter I've had to write for this story so far. A lot of emotional turmoil to bring to life. I really focused on adding some more layers to Sierra and developing her character. I hope you like her so far. I'd love to hear what you think or what your favorite part was, and maybe from anyone who can relate to her.


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